It's perfectly natural, John
by FandomP0wer
Summary: Sherlock moves from 221B baker street... straight into his new boyfriends house. One thing leads to another, and before he knows it Sherlock has been entangled into an abusive relationship. When Lestrade calls Sherlock and John about a case, will the truth come to light? Will Anderson and Donavan care about the truth? Will Sherlock be able to come to terms with what has happened?
1. Chapter 1

Trigger warning: Abusive relationship, graphic abuse, arguing, manipulation, swearing, implied rape, referenced torture, self harm(later on)

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of it's characters.

"Where are you going?" Allan's voice stops me in my tracks.

"Scotland yard, they have a case." I tense up and take deep breaths.

"What time will you be home?" He pops his knuckles as he asks the question.

"Three maybe." I was hoping to leave today without explaining myself. Obviously, that is not going to happen.

"It's going to last seven hours?"

"What do you think?" I snap, and realize a second to late that snapping was a terrible idea.

"I'm going to come with you." He seethes. _What does he think? That I'm going to go and whine about him? No one would believe me anyway._

"You really don't have you." Attempting to talk my way out, I shrug his icy tone off.

"I am going with you." His hand grips my shoulder tightly.

"Yeah... glad to have you." I swallow nervously and look at the ground.

"Hey." He reaches forward and I flinch back. He touches my face, causing me to look at him. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Butterflies fill my stomach and I forget for a moment why I keep trying to get out of the flat alone. _He's not mean, he just does what he has to... to keep me in line of course._

"Welcome, Freak." Donovan smirks as I walk through the doors. I shrink back at her words, she looks momentarily confused, but she just shrugs it off.

They are just calling me that because that's what I am...

"Seems like everyone gets the correct picture of you." Allan whispers in my ear, chuckling.

"Yeah." I nod slowly, agreeing with him.

"Where is the man who called you out this early?" He cracks his knuckles again. I flinch at the sound. I've grown accustomed to that sound meaning pain is on it's way.

"Lestrade." I correct him, part of my former self shining through in the familiar surroundings . _Maybe this is why he's afraid to let me go out alone- No, it's because I screw everything up and I'll mess everything up._

"Whatever." He looks irritated with my correction. _That is going to cost me when we get back to the flat._

"Ah, Sherlock." Lestrade comes out of his office with a smile on his face. "Where have you been?"

"Hello, Gavin-" Allan hisses at me when I greet him by his first name. The look on his face says that we are going to talk about this later. _Damn_. "Lestrade." I correct it, and hope it's enough to keep Allen from getting upset.

"Who is this?" The smile fades from Lestrade's face and is replaced with slight worry.

"Allen Brock." Allen acts like a ray of sunshine. "I've heard so much about you, Detective Lestrade."

"Yeah... where's John?"

My heart stops and my blood runs cold. I've kept John away from Allen as much as possible, and I've never mentioned John...

"Who's John?" Allan looks at me with cool eyes.

"What, Sherlock never told you about him?" Lestrade looks amused and confused. "Sherlock's best friend."

"Oh, really?" Allan glances at me with a look that says... well... it says _things_...

"Whatever, I called him anyway just in case you two weren't together."

I internally face palm. _George, stop. You're making things worse._

"Were you two ever together?" Allan acts amused, but I can see the accusation and fury in his eyes.

"No, we shared a flat at one point... but we were never together." I silently plead Allen to believe me.

"I can't wait to meet this _John_." The way he stresses John's name makes me involuntarily shudder.

"So, about the case, Graham?" I clear my throat and try to change the subject.

"Greg." Lestrade shakes his head. "My name is Greg..."  
"Right... Greg..." I nod.

"So, we have a strange crime this time..." He looks me in the eye. "We're in over our heads."

"We all have our times." I try to be kind to avoid pain. Geoff furrows his brows at my words. _What, did I offend him?_

"Pardon, Mr. Brock." Lestrade smiles brightly at the taller man. "Can you go with Anderson and Donovan to get some files please?"

"Why?" Allen looks suspicious.

"Because those two... if is someone is with them then they will actually get the files instead of shagging."

"Right," Allan smirks as he glances at me. "I'll be back, don't get into any trouble." He gives me a peck on the cheek and I flinch slightly.

"Yeah... same to you." I force a smile at the man I've come to love and fear.

Watching him go I can't help but feel more relaxed. My shoulders untense, and my heart rate returns to a steady beat that I haven't felt since I was living with John.

"Follow me." Lestrade motions at me. We head into his office, he closes the door and once again I become tense. _Closed doors = bad._

"Sherlock, I haven't seen you for a long time... how are you doing?" Lestrade sits behind his desk, I remain standing. _I haven't been given permission to sit yet._

"I've been fine, how have you been?" Automatic responses come out of my mouth without me thinking about it. I've practiced these several times, I had to.

"I'm here, Greg." John busts in breathlessly. I flinch violently and press myself against a wall. John looks at me in surprise. "Sherlock, what are you doing here?"

"Lestrade called me." I answer quietly. "There isn't a case... is there?"

"No, there isn't." Lestrade sighs. "I hadn't seen you for months, I was worried."

"Wait, what is going on here?" John interjects, I clam up instantly.

"Sherlock didn't show up for dinner last night." Lestrade looks at the doctor.

"Why would he- oh..." John's face flashes with realization. "You and Mycroft... are?"

"Yeah, we finally moved in together and Sherlock was supposed to come over for dinner last night... with you..."

"With me?" John looks amused, then shocked. "With me?"

"Lestrade, please." I hiss.

_This day is only getting worse._


	2. Chapter 2

"Why would he be coming with me?" John is so slow at understanding things, my idiot brother thinks I'm dating John and using Brock as a cover.

_Mycroft should mind his own business. I'll make sure I text him my thoughts. _

This whole situation is pathetic, it makes me sick.

"Sherlock, what's the story with your boyfriend?" Lestrade crosses his arms. "I've seen him around before, and I'm curious."

"You don't say, Graham you're truly as stupid as you look." I roll my eyes, yet internally cringe when I see his face turn into a glare. "Sorry." I duck my head slightly and wait for the impending blow.

"Are you alright?" John touches my shoulder and I flinch.

"Sorry." I hiss and grit my teeth.

"Are you hurt?" John's doctor mode is activated.

"I'm fine." Straightening my posture, and regaining my composer, I try to act more like myself.

"If I were to examine you, right now, would I find something I don't want to find?" John's eyes are dark.

_Well, torture scars are something you don't want to see..._

"No, John."

"Are you using again?" He crosses his arms.

"No, will you just shut up." I snap, feeling there is no way out of this conversation.

"No I will not bloody shut up!"

"Calm down." Lestrade rejoins the conversation. More like argument if you ask me.

"Since there is no case, I will be leaving now." Turning to the door, I walk away from my best friend and the detective.

"You didn't ask where I'd seen him before." Lestrade's voice makes me pause, my hand on the door handle.

"It doesn't matter, do not call me again unless there is a case, a real case." With that, I leave, slamming the door behind me.

_This is going to cost me, so, so much when I get back to the flat. _

"Why didn't you tell me about, John?" Allen grips my arm tightly, so tightly I'm worried it might bruise.

_What difference would it make? No one would pay attention if my whole face were black and blue. I never leave the flat, so there's no point in worrying._

"Because I hadn't seen him in a long time, I didn't even think I would see him ever again."

_Shit, wrong words._

"See him?"

"I meant-"

"Shut up." Allan lands a harsh block across my face. "I never, ever, want to hear his name again, and I never want you to speak to him or that detective again, do you understand?"

"Mm." I keep my lips pressed together. _What do I do, what do I say?_

"Do you understand?!" He shakes me, wanting an answer.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes..."

"Yes what?!" He aims a blow at my already damaged and bruised ribs.

I fall to the ground coughing and gasping for breath, tears threatening to spill down my face.

"Yes, master." The words are like poison in my mouth. There was a time when I would never of called anyone master, but that time is gone.

It's my own fault that I'm here and getting punished. I should have tried harder to be good. I should have done the right things. I wish I had of listened to Allen the first time he said his word was law.

"Go make me some tea you dick." He pulls me to my feet by my hair.

"Y-yes, master." Ducking my head, I go into our kitchen to make him tea.

If I don't do it right, he'll have to remind me of the price for failure. I don't think I need another reminder.

"Where is my tea?" He asks in a stern voice, I've barely even put the kettle on.

_Oh, god, I'm not going fast enough. Oh, god, I need to hurry up._

"Hurry up." I beg the kettle.

"I asked you a question." He comes into the kitchen.

"I- I..." Stuttering is all I can do as I attempt to explain myself. "It takes time... and-"

I'm cut off by another blow to my face, I'm knocked back into the wall. A plate falls from the cabinet next to me.

"Look what you did." Allan shakes his head. "Clean it up."

"Okay." I keep my head low and move to get a broom.

"No, I mean now." He shoves me back down, into the glass.

A cry of pain escapes my as glass embeds itself into my hands.

_No, no... why did I do that? I know the rules. Oh god._

"You cock, you know the rules." Allen pulls me up once more and drags me off to our room.

_I screwed up, oh shit, oh shit, I screwed up._

I'm thrown onto the bed, I know what is coming next. There's no point in even fighting it anymore.

"You need to learn your lesson, you seen to forget your place." Allen pins my hands above my head. I don't make a move, I don't speak a word.

"Maybe the rules will remain in your stupid mind a little longer this time."


	3. Chapter 3

"I love you." Allen kisses my cheek gently before leaving the room to take a shower.

"Love you too." My voice is barely above a whisper.

_Damn. _

My whole body is throbbing in pain from when just happened.

_I should have made the tea faster, he was just reminding me of my place... he loves me. No one else does._

My mind wanders back to the first time that we had sex, I wasn't very into the idea.

Allan and I were kissing in the living room, things were heating up, so I pulled back. Not wanting us to have sex yet.

"What did I do wrong?" He tried to pull me back into the kiss.

"No, I don't want this to go any further." I tried to set my foot down.

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"I don't want to."

"I thought you loved me." He was hurt.

"I do love you." I became confused.

"No, you don't." He turned away from me.

_I offended him. How?_

"I'm sorry." Trying to make things better, I apolog ized.

That's what you're supposed to do, right?

"No you're not." He snapped, leaving the room.

_How do I fix this?_

"Wait." I went after him.

He went into our bedroom.

"Leave me alone, Sherlock." He slammed the door in my face.

"Let me in." I demanded, not yet having learned the rules.

He opened the door and before he could shut me out again, I entered.

"What did I do wrong?"

"You don't love me because you don't want to have sex." He crossed his arms and turned his back to me.

"I'm sorry." Once again, I tried to make things right.

"Prove it." His voice was cold and I was taken aback.

"How?" I'm genuinely confused.

"How do you think, stupid?" He spun back around to face me, anger blazing over his face.

I take a step back in surprise.

What happened next is a blur, I remember being thrown onto the bed and he initiated sex. After that there were rules for everything and if I didn't listen I would be reminded of the rules.

Allan returns to our room, having taken his shower.

"You know I only did that to teach you, right?" He sits on the edge of the bed.

"Yes." It still hurt though.

"I love you, but you can't ignore me or break the rules." He cuddles up to me and I melt into his arms.

"I love you too." A smile spreads across my face, and all the pain and hurt feelings are forgotten.

_He was only doing what he had to do. he loves me, no one else does or ever will._


	4. Chapter 4

I'm awakened by my phone ringing.

_Who is it?_

The caller ID says 'John'.

_Shit._

Without any thought, I answer.

"Hello?" My voice is a quiet whisper. If Allan hears me I'll be in trouble.

"Sherlock, where are you?" John sounds happy.

"I'm at home, why?" I glance at my now awake boyfriend.

"Rosie's babysitter is sick, I was wondering if you could watch her."

"You're going on a date I presume."

"Yes, how did you-"

"I'm busy, sorry, good-bye." I hang up and turn to Allan, who looks irritated.

"Who was that?"

"Umm..." I try to think of a lie.

"Give me the phone." He holds his hand out.

Wordlessly, I comply, handing his the phone.

As he looks at the call log I feel my heart drumming in my chest.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

"Sherlock." He lays the phone on his side table. "What did I say about talking to John?"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No, what did I tell you?" He silences me.

"No more talking to him." Unable to bring myself to look him in the eye, I stare at the wall above his head.

"That's right." He nods. "You know what happens when you break the rules."

"Yes..."

"This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you." His voice is genuine and I take a deep breath, ready for my punishment.

"I think one finger is suitable along with losing your phone and internet privileges."

I nod.

He takes hold on my hand, and in one swift motion breaks one of my fingers.

He takes my phone and computer away from our room as tears stream down my face.

"Thank you." I thank him as he hugs me, reminding me that if he doesn't keep me in line no one will. _I need to be kept in line, I hurt people... I don't mean to, but I do._

"Name the first planet." Allen questions me.

_He's a science teacher, and we bonded over science. However, when he found out I don't know anything about the solar system he demanded I learn everything about it. When I refused he threatened to leave me because I wouldn't do the least little thing for him. _

"Jupiter?" I answer, praying it's the right one.

"No, I swear Sherlock you're more stupid than the kids I teach."

"Stupider, not more stupid." I correct his grammar, but regret it when he slaps me.

"What did I say about correcting me?"

"That I'm an idiot and I don't know anything." I try to remember.

"While that is true, that's not what I said." He twists my broken finger, making me scream out in pain. "You just lost your violin."

"No!" I gasp. _My violin is the only thing keeping me from going insane._

"Don't tell me no." He punches my ribs.

I'm reduced to a sobbing mass on the floor before our fireplace.

Allan picks up my violin and throws it in the fire.

My heart breaks as I'm forced to watch it burn to ashes.

The flames lick the surface, catching the instrument on fire. Bit by bit it is consumed, falling apart and disappearing into the flames.

It hurts me to watch it burn. _I have nothing anymore... It's all gone._

"Try again, what did I say about correcting me?"

"You are the leader of our relationship and I am not to correct you." I recite the words.

"True, but not the exact words." He kicks my ribs, fracturing one most likely.

"Please- I'm- I'm sorry." I'm gasping for breath due to the pain he continues to inflict upon me.

"You are a whiney bitch." He pulls my head up by me hair. "You're to stupid to remember the simple words I want to hear."

"I'm sorry."

"Pathetic." He releases his hold, which leaves me crumbled upon the floor once more.

"You- you are." I sob, unable to stop crying. "You are in ch-charge- and I don't- don't- know any-anything." I try once more.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong!" He screams, picks up the fire poker and heats it in the flames.

"Pl-please." I resort to begging.

"Shirt off." He demands.

"Please."

"Now!" He kicks my face, making me fall onto my back.

With shaky hands, I take my shirt off, and sit back up, facing my lover.

_He's just doing this because he loves me. He loves me, this is because I'm to stupid to do anything right._

I look at the scars adorning my flesh. The price for breaking rules is hard to forget when it's burned unto your flesh every time you disobey.

Wordlessly, Allan holds the red-hot iron to my side.

I scream in pain, unable to hold it back this time.

Again, and again, he touches it to my skin is several places.

_I have to learn my lesson. I have to learn._


	5. Chapter 5

A week has passed since I lost my violin. Things are getting worse.

Last night Allan became so angry he broke a plate over my head. I shouldn't have burned dinner. I'm just not used to cooking yet. I'm not good at it.

Today, I have been summoned to Scotland Yard as a character witness.

Allan didn't want me to go, but when he learned that it Lestrade was not the one who called me he reluctantly agreed.

_He's just worried I'll screw everything up. I can't blame him, I'm pathetic._

Today is our two-year anniversary. I have to hurry at Scotland Yard so I can return to the flat and cook dinner. I don't want to anger Allan today.

I'm currently in a cab. It's raining outside, and I'm concerned that the makeup I used will smudge. I've resorted to makeup, I can't believe it's come to this.

_I'm a man for god's sake, and I'm using make up. _

The cab stops and I look at the building I was once so familiar with.

_I miss solving cases with John._

_No, I can't think like that. John doesn't exist anymore. I'm not allowed to talk to or about him._

After paying the cabbie, I rush inside.

"Hey, Freak." Donovan barely notices me.

I duck my head and move past her and Anderson.

_No need in pointless time wasted, I need to hurry._

I pause at Lestrade's office, pondering is I should say hi. I haven't seen him for a long time, I miss him.

_No, I'm not allowed to talk to him. _

I glance at his door once more before opening it against my better judgment.

"Sherlock." Lestrade looks surprised to see me.

"Gavin." I nod. "I was summoned to be a character witness, where am I supposed to go?"

"About that..." He looks awkward.

"It was a fake, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." He motions for me to sit, but I refuse.

"Why?" I look around his office, everything is as it has always been.

"You aren't answering anyone's phone calls, and no one has seen you for over a week. Mycrof t can't even find you."

"That's the point." I snap. "If I wanted to be found, I would let myself be found."

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?" Lestrade ignores my hostility.

"I've been busy." I won't meet his eyes. "I need to go." He grabs hold of my arm and I flinch, closing my eyes tightly.

"Why?" Lestrade doesn't let me go, I open my eyes slowly and see him looking worried.

"I'm late, I need to go." I'm becoming frantic. "I need to go."

"Calm down." He tries to calm me down, but makes things worse when he tries to get a better grip on my arm.

"Let go, that hurts!" I cry when he touches a sore spot.

He lets go immediately, and I back away.

The door opens behind me and I look back, seeing Mycroft standing there.

"Hello, Brother mine." His eyes flick over me and I see him pale.

"I need to go." I try to get past him, but he grabs my arm.

For the second time today, I gasp in pain, and try to get out of his grip.

"Gregory, I believe you need to call Dr. Watson."

"Alright." Lestrade glances between myself and my brother.

"Tell him to bring his medical bag, and I would suggest you send officers to pick up Sherlock's _ex_ boyfriend."

"I'm not breaking up with him, Mycroft." I jerk my arm from him grip, only for him to grab my hand and accidentally twist my broken finger.

"Let go, let go, let go!" I cry. He lets go and looks shocked.

Tears are now threatening to leave my eyes as I continue trying to get past my brother .

When I realize I'm not going to be able to leave this room I walk to a corner in the room and sit in it. Tears stream down my face as I think about what is going to happen when I get home.

_Oh god, Allan is going to kill me for being late. I'm going to pay for this. No, no, no._

I watch as Lestrade hangs up the phone from talking to John, and I watch as Mycroft watches me. Neither of us say a word.

After around fifteen minutes John busts through the door with his bag, and looks around the room.

"Where is he?"

"Corner." Mycroft says cooly.

John looks straight at me and I try to wipe the tears off my face. Seconds later I remember the makeup I'm wearing.

_Shit._

"Sherlock, what happened?" John crouches in front of me, I press myself further back into the corner.

_No more talking to John._

I remain silent, not speaking to my best- no, to the stranger in front of me.

"Good luck, now if you'll excuse me." Mycroft turns to leave.

"_You_ _cock_." I hiss at my brother. "You planned this, now I'm going to have to pay the price."

"What is going on?" John looks between Mycroft and myself.

"I knew you hated me." I ignore the stranger before me.

"On the contrary, I did this because I was worried."

"No." I shake my head in denial. "I was fine, now it's not okay,"

"Will someone tell me what the bloody hell is going on here?" The stranger stands to his feet and yells. I flinch and try to make myself as small as possible.

"Would you like to tell them, or shall I?" Mycroft remains detached.

"Tell what?" I sniffle.

"Sherlock is being abused."


	6. Chapter 6

"What?" Lestrade and John ask at the same time.

"No I'm not." I shake my head upset that Mycroft would think such a thing,

"Let Dr. Watson examine you, if everything is fine you can leave." I'm challenged by my brother.

"No." I try to retreat further into the corner, but can't.

"Let me see." John- no, the stranger crouches once more and reaches for me.

"No, no, no." I flinch away from him hands.

"Go get someone to help me." He turns to my brother, who nods and leaves without a word.

"Sherlock, I'm going to get out some gloves, alright?" The stranger peaks as if I'm a wild animal and am going to run at the slightest movement.

"I'm fine." I start to get up, but see Mycroft come back in with Donovan and Anderson.

"Why them?" I groan and hide my face in my hands.

"What's wrong with the freak?" Donovan's voice has a sarcastic edge to it.

"I need you two to help me, if I tell you to do something you do it right then, no questions." The stranger is in full doctor mode.

"What's going on here?" Anderson doesn't look happy.

"Sherlock is being abused by his boyfriend and John needs to see how bad it is." Lestrade explains, I peek out and see the looks on their faces. Donovan looks shocked and Anderson looks sick.

"I'm fine." I remove my hands from my face and regret it when I see everyone go pale.

_What- Shit. Makeup. _

"Oh my god." Donovan covers her mouth wish a hand.

"Sherlock." The stranger breathes, as if he cares.

"Just let me go home, I'm going to be in trouble for being late." I won't look at anyone now.

"Take off your shirt." My brother instructs.

I feel the blood drain from my face.

"No, please... I'll be good, please don't." I curl in on myself.

"Dr. Watson, you're going to have to do what you can for my brother, I must be off, I have some business to take care of." With that Mycroft leaves the room.

Anderson approaches me, and I cringe at the soft expression on his face.

"Sherlock, let us help you." He swallows nervously.

"Let Donovan help him get his shirt off." Lestrade suggests. "She's a woman, and he seems pretty bloody scared of men right now."

"Okay." Everyone backs off, and Donovan approaches slowly, tears trailing down her face.

"Let me help you." She starts unbuttoning my shirt, I close my eyes and prepare for the pain to come.

"God." I hear a collection of gasps in the room when Donovan pulls my shirt off of me.

"We're going to need to get him to a hospital." The stranger shakes his head.

"I'll call." Lestrade picks up his phone.

Donovan looks at me differently, as if I'm broken. I preferred her when she thought of me as a freak.

Anderson is gone, I can only assume he is disgusted by me.

_When is this going to be over? _


	7. Chapter 7

"What did he do?" The stranger hesitates to touch my obviously broken finger.

"It was an accident, I got my finger jammed in a door." Trying to protect the man I love, I lie.

"That," The stranger,_ we're going to call him Jake... because I want to and not because he means anything to me or is anyone that's name is really John,_ points at my swelled finger. "There is no way that was an accident."

"It was an accident." I protest, only to flinch back when Donovan starts trying to remove the left over makeup from my face.

"Sit still, freak- Sherlock." She corrects herself and I feel upset.

"I am a freak, nothing has changed." I push my way to my feet, and feel vulnerable without my shirt. "Don't change your tune just because you believe a lie my idiotic brother concocted to keep me away from the man I love."

"Sher-" Jake starts.

"Shut up." I internally flinch at the words I'm using. Allan would kill me, he's already going to be so angry when I get back to the flat. "Give me my shirt, I would like to be leaving now."

"You can't leave." Lestrade blocks the door. As if I didn't have enough obstacles to begin with.

"If you forbid me to leave you must charge me, otherwise it would be breaking the law." I glare at the room of people and my head starts spinning at the thought that they all think Allan hurts me because he want to. He only doesn't it because I'm to stupid to do anything right. "I will be leaving now."

"No, I'm charging you." Lestrade announces.

"For what?"

"Uh, assaulting an officer." He answers after a short pause.

"What?" I furrow my brows in confusion. "I didn't assault anyone."

"You hit me earlier." Lestrade nods, more confident. "You can't leave."

"Ambulance is here!" Anderson comes in with two EMTs behind him.

"Where is the patient?"

"There." Everyone looks to me.

"God." The younger of the men gasps.

"Why do people keep doing that?" I shout, anger coursing through me.

_Wait, no, anger is bad. No anger. Allan isn't here, but if I don't follow his rules when he isn't here than how can he trust me to follow them other times._

"What happened?" The older of the men doesn't even blink at the injuries littering my body.

"Nothing."(Me.)

"Domestic violence." Lestrade and I answer at the same time.

"I'm a doctor, he has a broken finger, possibly some broken ribs, third degree burns, lacerations, and several other injuries from what I can tell." Jake speaks.

"We'll take him right in."

"I'll ride with, he's in police custody." Lestrade speaks.

Donovan and Anderson have been silent through this exchange with the paramedics.

_They're disgusted by me, I can't blame them. To think I messed up so many times. I should have learned my lesson a long time ago._

"I refuse to go, give me my shirt." I jerk it away from Donovan who still has hold of it.

"You can't refuse, you're in my custody." Lestrade crosses his arms. "We're going."

"No." I'm cornered, and I know it. However, if I give in Allan will be even more angry with me than if I don't argue with them.

"You may have to sedate him." Jake turns to the older of the EMTs.

"No, I do not consent to this, no." I put my shirt on and try to figure out a way to get out of this situation.

"I'll make you a deal." Lestrade steps in front of my and I shrink down in fear. "If you go and let them check you out, I'll let you go home."

"I won't be charged?" I glance up at the detective.

"No, but you have to go with them and let them take care of you."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch." He tries to initiate eye contact but I refuse.

"If I go with them, and get examined, you'll let me go home?"

"Yes."

_This doesn't sound right, why doesn't it sound right?_

"Okay." Against all better judgment, I agree.

"Alright, come on." He walks me out with the EMTs. Scotland yard officers stare as I walk past them.

_They see how many times I messed up. They see how many times I should have learned my lesson. _

I feel as if they can see into my very soul.

I'm put in the ambulance, and Jake jumps in next to me.

"Why are you here?" I sneer at him.

"Because you're my best friend." He says.

_No, he's not. He's Jake, not John. I'm not allowed to talk to John, this is Jake._

"Leave me alone." I feel weak.

"Can you at least tell me about your boyfriend?"

"He's amazing, kind, loyal... he does what he has to, to keep me in line." I start, but stop when I see Jake looks amused and Lestrade looks horrified. "What?"

"You've got to be kidding me." Jake chuckles.

"No, I'm not." I'm dumbfounded as to what they think is a joke.

"Kind, loyal, amazing... you can't be serious." Jake shakes his head in amusement.

"No... I'm not."

"What?" His amusement slowly fades to concern is I remember the expression correctly.

"I need to call Allan and tell his what happened." I steel my expression, having failed Allan already today, I can't fail him again.

"Okay." Jake hands me his phone.

"Thank you." I nod and dial in Allan's number.

_Please, if there is a god out there as I have been told, and contrary to what I believe, please let everything be okay. _

"Hello?" Allan sounds tired.

"I'm sorry." Are the first words from my lips.

"Sherlock, I swear to god..." He sounds angry now.

_Shit, this is not going well._

"It was a trick, and now I've been taken into custody."

"What kind of fucked-up lie is this?"

"Here, talk to them, I just want to go home." I beg him.

"Hand the phone to the highest ranking officer there." He seethes.

I turn to Lestrade and hand him the phone.

"Hello?" I watch as Lestrade talks to Allan.

_What if Allan doesn't want me anymore because I screwed up?_

_What if he won't love me anymore?_

"Yes, he is in custody, he assaulted an officer... No, he fell and hurt himself so regulation states we must take him to a hospital... yes, you can meet us there."

"God." Jake holds a hand to his face and closes his eyes.

"Yes, we'll be at Saint Bart's, I'll have an officer standing by to speak with you."

The phone is handed back to me.

"Yes?" I pray that Allan isn't mad at me.

"I swear to god, if you tell them any stupid lies I will fucking kill you."

"I would never- I love you..." Tears enter my eyes.

"You don't even know the word love." He hangs up on me.


	8. Chapter 8

We arrive at the hospital and Allan is there waiting on me.

"Allan." I say hesitantly. The EMTs get the stretcher than I'm lying on out of the ambulance.

"Can I have a moment to speak to him?" Allan says.

"Who are you?" Jake asks.

"I'm Allan Brock, Sherlock's boyfriend, who are you?"

"Oh." Jake nods, and a murderous smile spreads across his face. "I'm John Watson."

With that Jake punches Allan and Allan touches his face gingerly with a shocked expression.

"Nice to finally fucking meet you." Jake takes a threatening step towards him, but Lestrade grabs him and pulls him back

"That was-" Allan spits and sputters. I'm horrified that the stranger, Jake, hit my boyfriend. "-Uncalled for."

"Well hitting my best friend was uncalled for!" Jake tries to break away from Lestrade.

"Get him inside, and I don't want anyone to get into him without me there." Allan demands.

"Who are you to tell them what to do you _**Cock**_!" Jake breaks loose and knocks Allan to the ground.

"No, Allan." My eyes go wide and I try to get to him. The EMTs hold me down and wheel me inside, leaving the drama outside.

_No, Allan is going to get hurt. _

Something inside of me feels wrong... Almost as if I should be more worried about Jake.

_Jake is a stranger, I don't even know him. Why should I be worried about him. _

As much as I try, I can't lie to myself. I know that Jake is John... and I know that John is my best friend.

This is all my fault, I should have known that this was a trap to get me into custody.

_Fuck you Mycroft. _


	9. Chapter 9

I'm taken to an emergency exam room and several Doctors come into the room, a man and a woman.

"We met a doctor at the scene, he said we may have to sedate him." The younger of the EMTs explains to the doctors.

"Noted." One of them nods.

"I'm Doctor Heimdall, and this is Doctor Sherman." The woman speaks first, in a low gentle voice.

"Sherlock Holmes." I clench my jaws and once again try to get up, put she puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Let's take a look at you." She smiles softly.

"No, I need to help my boyfriend." Desperate to help Allan, I try to get them to let me go.

"Tell me about your boyfriend." Doctor Sherman, the man, takes hold on my hand.

"Don't." I jerk it away from him. "I didn't do anything wrong, leave me the fuck alone."

"We need to check you out and see if everything is ok." He narrows his eyes.

I shrink back and look away.

"I want Allan." Crossing my arms, I refuse to comply with the medical staff.

"You can have Allan, after we look at you." Dr. Heimdall motions for them to move me to the hospital bed. In one swift motion they move me and I'm left gasping for breath from fear.

"Are you alright?" She holds my wrist, taking my pulse.

"I'm fine." I snap. "Can I have Allan, now?"

"Not yet."

"I want Allan." Once again, I jerk away from them. "I want Allan."

"We're going to need to sedate him." She turns to her male counterpart, who leaves the room.

"What, no!" I protest.

Moments later Dr. Sherman comes back.

"It's going to be alright, just relax."

"No, I will not relax, leave me alone." I try to fight back, but they have the advantage. I'm held down and injected.

"No." My eyes become heavy and I fight to stay awake. "Allan..."


	10. Chapter 10

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. **

The steady beeping of a heart monitor wakes me up.

_Where am I? What happened? _

Slowly, I open my eyes, then close them once again due to the assault of the light.

_What happened? _

My mind is drawing a blank.

_I'm in a hospital, why? _

Piece by piece my brain reconstructs what happened.

_Lestrade tricked me, Mycroft made up a lie, Jake hurt Alla n, everyone thinks Allan hurts me because he wants to. _

This is not good, how do I explain things.

"Brother mine, I know you're awake." Mycroft's voice draws my attention.

"Leave me alone." My voice is a low growl.

"If it's any consolation, I made sure your abuser is taken care of, permanently."

"What abuser?"

"Allan."

_No. _

My eyes open, and I stare at my brother in shock.

"No, no, no." I run a hand through my hair. "No, no, no."

Mycroft looks confused.

"I thought you would at least thank me, it took a lot of work to get him taken care of."

"You killed him." Tears enter my eyes and I don't bother holding them back.

"Of course, do you not remember what I told you about sentiment?"

"And attachments, and anything." I yell at the moron I call my brother. "Maybe not everyone is a goldfish, maybe I loved him!"

"He hurt you." Mycroft's face is set in stone once more.

"He loved me."

"He was abusive, and he controlled you."

"He did it to help me."

"You are in worse shape than I thought."

"Go away." I close my eyes and turn on my side, back to Mycroft.

"He burned your violin."

"I didn't listen." My heart still pangs with sorrow over the loss of my violin.

"He burned you."

"He had to remind me what happens when you break the rules."

"He made you cut contact with everyone."

"He was scared I would leave him and screw everything up." I defend the man I love- loved.

"Are those your words, or his?" I hear Mycroft stand up.

"Mine."

"We shall see, Brother Mine."

"Go away." Tears stream down my face as my body shakes in silent sobs.

"You _will_ be returning to 221B Baker Street when you are released from this hospital." His voice is stern.

Silence is the only answer I give him.

_He killed my boyfriend. _


	11. Chapter 11

S_entiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side." _

_"Attachments are dangerous." _

The words that became mine for a time were once told to me by the British government who think that he can tell me what to do.

"Sherlock, would you like a cuppa?" Jake asks me.

I was released from the hospital a week ago, I haven't spoken a word to anyone since the conversation with Mycroft.

_He killed my boyfriend, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him. _

"I'll make you a cuppa." Jake sighs and heads into the kitchen.

_Allan is gone. What am I without him? What about the rules? Who will help me stay in line? _

"How did you sleep last night?" Jake shouts from the kitchen.

Silence is his answer.

_Why did they take him away from me? _

"Lestrade called, he said that he has a case when your ready?"

_I'm not allowed to talk to Lestrade, Mycroft, of John. _

"Mrs. Hudson make some pie, would you like some?"

_No, I haven't earned it. _

"I'm going to have to leave for work in a little while."

_Dull. _

"Here's your cuppa." Jake sets the cup in front of me.

I don't bother thanking him.

_What point is there? I haven't been given permission to drink it._

"Umm..." He sounds awkward. "Mycroft sent you a present, would you like to open it?

**Silence. **

"Sure, sure, you would." Jake chuckled nervously, and brings me a present from the table.

"Open it."

I comply with his order.

_Do what you're told, no hesitation, no questions. _

Inside the present is a new violin.

My eyes fill with tears and it feels as if my heart has been ripped out.

_I didn't earn my violin back. _

"Whoa, that's a nice violin, isn't it?" Jake marvels over it. "Why don't you play something?"

the first time I look up at Jake.

_Is that an order, or is it a test? _

I don't make a move, nor say a word, I just watch him, wondering what he wants me to do.

"Sherlock." He crouches next to me. "You know that you can do whatever you want, you don't have to wait for permission... you can play your violin, you can drink your tea, you can eat food... You know that, right?"

_Is that an order, or a test?" _

"Here, why don't we start like this." Jake looks around the room, grabs some paper and a pen. "You write what you're thinking."

_Order? _

I take it from him with shaky hands, keeping an eye on him just in case this is a test.

_"Is this an order or a test?"_ With wobbly letters, I write on the paper. He takes the paper from me and reads it.

"Order or test?" Jake repeats with confusion in his voice.

I watch him, waiting on his answer.

"Can you explain what you mean?" He hands the paper back to me.

_"Are you ordering me, or testing me?"_ After writing, I hand the paper back to him.

"Sherlock, neither." He gets it and nearly drops the paper. "You are allowed to do whatever you want." He hands the paper back to me.

_"Order, then?"_ Once again, I write, then hand the paper back to him.

"Sherlock..." He sounds frustrated, and hands the paper back to me.

_"Test."_ I scribble and give it to him.

"No." He hands a clean paper to me.

_"Order?"_ I write.

"No."

_"Test?" _

"Neither."

_"What do you want me to do?" _

"Whatever you want."

I give up trying to get an answer, and he also gives up trying to do whatever he's trying to do.

_I'm confused, I don't know what I want to do... and I'm worried this is a test, but he says it's not, is that a test in itself? _


	12. Chapter 12

Jake just left for work, he told me that he'll be back later.

_I know what I'm supposed to do. _

As soon as I hear the door downstairs lock, I lump to my feet and get started cleaning.

_If I don't get it all done, he'll be angry._

Starting in the living room, I straighten books and fold the sheets that are laying over the couch.

Next is dusting.

_I hate dusting, but it is the most important according to Allan. _

After than I sweep and vacuum.

_Shit, I almost forgot to start a fire in the fireplace._

Quickly, I do that.

I repeat the steps in each room, the after the whole flat has been cleaned, I mop the floors.

Lastly, now that everything is done, I start cooking.

_What is Jake's favorite type of food?_

Having no idea, I decide to make whatever I can find.

Food is finished just as I hear the door downstairs unlocking.

Just in time, Jake will be pleased.

Jake walks into the flat.

"Sherlock, I'm home."

I emerge from the kitchen and meet him at the door.

Watching him with steady unmoving eyes, I wait for his approval.

"Sherlock, did you clean?" He looks confused.

I nod my head yes.

"You cooked too, didn't you?"

Once again, I vigorously nod.

_Did I forget something? Did I mess up? He isn't happy._  
"You didn't have to do that." He smiles, but it's forced.

_Shit. I must have forgotten something._

Wordlessly, I walk over to the fireplace, and kneel before it.

I messed up, now i must be punished.

"What are you doing over there?" Jake follows me.

I look up at him, not meeting his eyes.

_Don't you know? I messed up, I must be punished. _

"Tell me what you're thinking." He sits down next to me.

_Test or Order?_

"Sherlock, it's okay." He touches my shoulder gently. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Punishment." I whisper and close my eyes. Waiting on the first blow.

"What?"

"I didn't do something right, I must be punished." I explain quietly, keeping my eyes closed. "I must be reminded what happens when I break the rules."

"Sherlock, no..." Jake sounds heartbroken.

_Why?_

"Did you clean and cook because you thought you had to?"

_Am I not to do that?_

"You can answer me." His voice sounds soft.

"Yes, am I no longer instructed the same?" I open my eyes slowly, but look at the fire instead of Jake.

"No, you don't have to cook or clean."

"What are my instructions?"

"You don't have any."

_I have to have instructions, I'm to stupid to do anything right without them. _

"Come on, why don't we eat." Jake motions for me to go to the kitchen with him.

We sit down at the table, and he starts eating. I watch him, waiting on him to tell me if I'm allowed to eat.

"Aren't you going to eat, Sherlock?"

_I don't understand._

"You can eat." He furrows his brows.

With that, I pick up my fork and begin eating.

"You don't have to wait to be told anymore." Jake says.

_Yes I do._

_Why are things so different here?_


	13. Chapter 13

"John, Sherlock, anyone home?" I hear Lestrade's voice from outside our door.

_Am I allowed to answer the door here? _

"On my way!" Jake yells, I flinch down.

_I didn't answer the door, I'm going to be in trouble later. _

Jake appears in the living room, and quickly opens the door.

"Hey, Greg." John lets him in, but then I see someone with him.

_Mycroft. _

"How are you doing, Brother Mine?" Mycroft sits in the chair opposite of me.

**Silence **.

"He doesn't talk much." Jake explains, then sits on the couch next to Lestrade.

"Interesting." Mycroft sounds uninterested.

"How re you boys getting along?" Lestrade smiles at me.

Test or order?

"Sherlock, would you like to talk to anyone?" Jake asks.

**Silence. **

_Test or Order? _

"Shit, umm... Sherlock, you are allowed to talk." Jake turns red for a second.

"What?" Lestrade looks to him with a raised eye brow.

"He won't do anything without being told directly."

"I scheduled an appointment for my brother with a psychologist." Mycroft looks at me with piercing eyes.

"I don't need a doctor." I snap.

_Mycroft killed Allan . _

"Glad to see you're still capable of feelings." Mycroft looks detached.

_No, as much as it will cot me I want to see him angry, I want him to hate me as much as I hate him. _

"Anything eventful happening at Scotland yard?" Jake asks Lestrade, changing the subject.

"We've got ourselves a serial killer.

"We _have_ a serial killer." I correct, then freeze in horror.

_Shit, no correcting. No correcting. _

"Glad to see you're..." He looks confused at me. "What are you doing?"

I'm kneeling in front of the fireplace, arms wrapped protectively around my violin.

_I can't lose it again. _

"Please not the violin." My beg is barely above a whisper. "Me, not the violin."

"Sherlock." Jake comes over and crouches next to me. "We're not going to hurt you, and we're not going to take your violin."

"Please not the violin." I wrap my arms tighter around it. "Not the violin."

"What's wrong with him?" Lestrade sounds horrified.

"This keeps happening." Jake sounds tired. "He thinks he's going to be in trouble for everything, he protects the violin with his life."

"Allan burned his violin for disobedience." Mycroft's voice is cold.

"God." Lestrade breathes.

"Sherlock, mate, I promise you can keep the violin."

I won't look at him.

_It's a trick, I know it is. _

"Why don't you go rest in your room so I can talk to Mycroft?" Jake suggests.

"Yes, Master." I stand up, still protecting my violin, and go to my room.

Leaving the door open a little, I sit on my bed and pluck the violin's strings.

_I can't lose it again. _


	14. Chapter 14

_Hydrogen, H... Atomic weight, 1.008_

Concentrate, think. I need to think.

_Lithium, Li... Atomic weight, 7.94, NO, Atomic weight 6.73? No, no, no NO!_

Jake, Lestrade, and that overgrown paperweight I'm forced to call my brother, are talking in the living room.

The paper weight thinks I need to go to a psychiatrist.

Of course, the other two 'well meaning' hypocrites agree with him.

I do **NOT** need 'help'. I need Allan.

_Oxygen, O, Atomic weight, 6.4, NO, NO, NO! _

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. I'm so stupid. Allan could have helped me remember._

_Planets, he wanted me to know the planets. _

_1\. Pluto?_  
_2\. Earth._  
_ ._  
_4\. Venus._  
_5\. Germany?_  
_NO. That is a country._

I pull my hair and scream at myself internally.

**_STUPID, STUPID, STUPID _**

_Cases, think about cases._

S_tudy in pink, dead lady, pink everywhere... culprit cabbie._

_Hollow client... hollow client..._

_Umm... serial killer in plain sight, tv commercial guy... name? Shit why can't I remember? _

I need Allan. Why did Mycroft talk him away from me?

He was jealous that I was in love, and he wasn't.

He took him away because he was jealous.

Mycroft hates me, he killed Allan.

_I hate you Mycroft, I hate you, I hate you,__** I HATE YOU!**_


	15. Chapter 15

"You know everything." Allan rolls his eyes.

"Yes, it's my job." I cross my arms.

"Name five things I don't know." Allan clenches and unclenches his hands.

"How to take care of animals, gardening, cooking, and how to apologize." I yell at him.

"Hey." He yells back. "Maybe I wouldn't have to apologize if you weren't so stupid!"

"I'm not stupid." My feelings are hurt.

"Yes you are, you can't even name the planets."

"Why does that matter?!"

"Because its science, you idiot." He punches my face.

I stand there staring at him in shock. holding a hand over my throbbing eye.

_I've been hit, slapped, and hurt before, but never by him._

"You... you hit me."

"I'm so sorry, Sherlock, you just made me so mad... I'm sorry, it will never happen again." He hugs me and apologizes.

"It's alright."

_John's hit me before, it's okay. It must be a normal occurrence for people who care about you to hit you. _

"I'm so sorry, please don't leave me." He begs.

"I won't, it's alright." I hug him back and try to sooth my crying boyfriend.

"Promise?" He pulls back and looks at me.

"... yeah, I promise." I hesitate. "As long as both of us are happy, we will stay together."

_I don't like being tied tot something without choice, so I threw that in there for good measure. _

"We'll always be happy together, we'll never part."

"Yeah..." Anxiety crawls inside me.

_But what if things don't work? What if..._

"You don't sound sure, don't you love me?" He pouts.

"Of course I love you, I've just never been in a relationship like ours before." I struggle to find a reason for my hesitancy. _I'm not sure what love is... do I really love him yet?_

"Like ours?" He looks frustrated and confused.

"I've never dated without reason, I've never been in lo ve before." I correct myself.

"Will I'll teach you everything." He kisses me.

Butterflies fill my stomach as I melt into the kiss.

_He loves me, and I suppose this feeling is love, so I l ove him too. _

"Sherlock?" I hear my voice being called.

"Allan?" In a sleepy voice, I whisper.

"No, it's John."

_John?_

_Why is John here?_

"Where's Allan?" I roll over, looking for my lover.

"Sherlock... Allan isn't here anymore, remember?" He sounds unsure of himself.

"Why?" I get up, and look around, trying to find him.

_Why isn't he here? Why is John here? I'm not supposed to talk to him anymore- _

Everything that has transpired comes crashing back into my mind.

"Allan is dead." I whisper to myself.

"Yes, he is."

"I want Allan." Tears enter my eyes and I struggle to hold them back.

"Mycroft wants to talk to you."

"Tell him I don't want to talk to him, he's an over grown paper weight that stole my boyfriend from me."

"Sher-"

"Leave me alone!" I scream in Jake's face, turn away and go back to bed.

_I want Allan, he makes everything better. _

_Mycroft can go to hell for all I care, he stole the only person who loves me. _

_Now I have no one, and nothing. _

_I want Allan._


	16. Chapter 16

"Sherlock." Mycroft's makes his presence known as he stands at the door of my room.

"Hmm, slacking aren't you?" I open my eyes and glare at him. "You've been standing there for five minutes."

"We must talk." He clicks his umbrella on the ground.

"No." I close my eyes, and turn my back to him.

"You don't have a choice, Brother Mine." His voice if full of that stupid authority he thinks he can use on me.

"We're not children anymore, you can't tell me what to do." I growl. "You _killed_ Allan."

"A necessary deed, I'm afraid." He doesn't sound sorry. "I wish that it co uld have been done sooner to have prevented your... _situation_."

"My situation is entirely your fault." I give up trying to keep my back to him. I open my eyes, get out of my bed, and stomp over, standing face to face with my brother. "I would be fine if it weren't for you."

"You're delusional, Sherlock." He remains emotionless which makes me angry.

"I'm in perfect state of mind, are you?"

"I'm in an entirely better state of mind than you."

"You stole what little I had left, you took the only person who loved me!" I scream at my- no, he is no longer my brother. He is an overgrown paper weight that is in no way related to me.

"He abused you, and I fear he may have changed you."

"He loved me."

"Did he?" Mycroft looks indifferent. "Strange way of showing it."

"I hate you, I hate you, Mycroft." I feel my face heating up, and I feel tears re-entering my eyes. "You don't know anything about me, and you had no right to take away the man I love."

"Loved, brother mine." His tone is sharp. "He's dead, _none to soon_."

I snap.

In one swift motion, I grab him by the throat and knock him to the ground.

He groans in pain, and before I have time to tell him exactly what I think about him, hands drag me off of him.

"I hate you!" I spit as I'm pulled away from Mycroft.

"Pity." Mycroft gets up with Lestrade's help, and brushes his suit off. "I thought you might thank me for this one day."

"Leave." I snarl. "I don't want you to ever come back."

"What would mummy say." He tuts.

"I don't care." I try to jerk away from Jake, who is holding me back.

"I thought more of you than this, Sherlock." Mycroft shakes his head. "I thought you would at least except that you are a victim once again."

"I'm not a victim." I shout at him, and keep trying to get away to fight my one-upon-a-time brother.

"Could have fooled me." I get a rise out of Mycroft. I feel satisfaction knowing this.

"Does it shame you to know that your _ex_ brother is a junkie?" I try to get another rise from him. "Does it shame you to know he played nice and pretended to kill himself for two years so he could do the leg work you hate?"

"Enough!" Mycroft looks angry now. I sick smile spreads across my face.

"Okay, I think you two need to go before he loses it." Jake says from behind me.

"I think you're right." Lestrade takes Mycroft by the arm and leads him to the door.

"We'll call later to see when it's safe to come back."

"Alright, be safe." Jake yells as they exit the flat, Mycroft slamming the door behind him.


	17. Chapter 17

"What was that?" Jake snaps at me when we hear the door downstairs close.

"The truth." Rage still flows through my veins. I'm tired and angry.

"You just hurt your brothers feelings!" He's obviously upset.

"What do you care?" The words seep from my lips like venom. "It's not like you mean anything."

His face flashes with hurt.

"Sherlock, I swear to god..."

"There is no god." I clench my hands into fists. "I thought you would be smart enough to know that."

"You need help, I think you should go to the-"

"I don't need anyone's help, I'm fine."

"You are losing it." Jake shakes his head.

"And you think that you can tell me what to do."

"I'm your best friend."

"Please." I scoff. "I don't have friends, nor do I have a best friend."

"I'm going to go out for a while." Jake's hands are shaking with anger.

_I don't care. He can hit me, he can shout at me. Nothing matters. My life is over._

"Have fun." I move past him, and plop down onto the couch.

"You know what." His voice is sharp and makes my cringe. "No, we are not doing this."

"You're the only one doing anything, Jake."

"I'm not Jake!"

"Yes you are."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"NOTHING IS WRONG WITH ME." I jump to my feet and scream at him. "Will you and the rest of your merry men leave me alone!"

"You are a dick." His words cut like a knife, yet satisfy me. "You yell and scream like no one cares when everyone tells you how much they care!"

"Do they?" I roll my eyes. "Good to know, I'll phone the queen. I suppose they deserve an award."

"One of these days..." Jake's face twists into an angry scowl. "One of these days you're going to look back and realize how many people cared."

"Only one person cared, and he's gone."

"That is a lie!"

"Prove it, sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side." My voice lowers. "And for a moment, for a short time, I thought that maybe it wasn't."

Jake doesn't say anything. He presses his lips tightly together, and leaves the flat, also, slamming the door behind him.

_When will everyone leave me alone? _

_I'm sick of them treating me like a baby. _

_The only person who treated me correctly was Allan. He knew what I was, and he knew how to make me better._

_Wait..._

A thought comes into my mind.

_It might work..._

_Allan would approve, and he would praise me for it. _


	18. Chapter 18

I stumble into the bathroom, tripping due to my clumsiness and haste to retrieve what I'm in search for.

_Where is it?_

I scan the cabinets, in search of what I seek.

_Where, where, where?_

I open the cabinet below the sink.

_There._

I pull out the first aid kit that Jake keeps in here.

What I seek is small, metal, and, hopefully, in this little bag meant for healing.

rummaging through the kit, I find alcohol wipes, bandages, and the item I seek.

_Hello, hello, why didn't I think of this sooner._

Carefully, I place it and the other items I retrieved on the counter, next I put the first aid kit back where it came from.

_No use in making a mess._

Taking everything I found, I go to my room. Closing and locking the door behind me.

_Closing door=bad, locking door=really bad._

In this situation, I think Allan would understand.

I hop onto my bed, and lay the items out before me.

Bandages, alcohol wipes, and a razor blade.

If no one will keep me in line, I'll have to do it myself.

I role my sleeves up, and wipe my arm with the alcohol.

_No use in getting an infection._

Slowly, I draw the razor blade over left my wrist.

I hiss in pain, but keep going.

_I have to keep myself in line. _

Once again, I draw it over my wrist.

Mesmerized by the blood coming to the surface of my skin, I continue.

My feelings quiet down, and I take a deep breath. I feel better.

_Endorphins are released when you are hurt, my brain is telling my body to release endorphins. _

A smile forms on my face, and as I draw the blade over, and over, and over, again.

Switching hands, I continue on my right wrist.

Blood drips down my arm, but I don't make a move to clean it. Instead, I watch it.

It drips down onto my pants, yet still I do nothing. Watching myself bleed makes me feel... better. I've paid the price for everything I've done wrong, and I can keep myself in line.

After I, finally, cleaned myself up, I start cleaning the flat.

Old habits die-hard.

Starting in the kitchen today instead of the living room, I wash the dishes and clean the corners. Next, I move to the living room, I put wood in the fire, then clean the living room.

Room after room, I clean, dust, and sweep.

Last thing, I mop.

Then, as I have done before, I cook.

_Things are going to be alright. Allan would be proud of me. I'm following the rules, and paying the price for breaking them. _


	19. Chapter 19

"Ouch, shit!" I hiss in pain when I accidentally burn my hand cooking.

Instantly, I rush over to the sink and run my hand under cold water.

_Wait, I smell something burning... _

I look at the food and see it burning.

_No, no, no! _

I jerk my hand out from under the water, and grab the food moving it off the burner.

_Ouch, ouch, ouch. _

I try to ignore my hands burning from the pan.

I set it down and return my hand, with the addition of the other, to under the water.

_I burned food, I'd going to be in trouble. _

When I hear the downstairs door unlock, I start panicking.

_I haven't had time to make anything new... no, no, no. _

I take my hands from under the faucet, dry them off and notice the burns on them.

_Those are not good. _

I go and wait at the door that enters into this flat.

_I'm going to be in trouble. _

The door into this flat unlocks and Jake walks in, looking tired.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock." Are the first words from his mouth.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Jake." I force a smile, still ignoring the burning in my hands.

"...Sherlock..." He looks around. "Did you cook and clean again?"

_Was I not supposed to? _

"... I'm sorry." I look away from him. "I burned it."

He follows me into the kitchen, and I point at the burned pan.

"Sherlock." He gasps.

"I'm sorry." I brace myself, but instead of an attack, he grabs my hand.

"Did you burn yourself?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burn everything." Words start pouring out while I try to apologize. Jake hold a hand up, silencing me and making me flinch.

"Come here." He leads me into the living room.

"Sit." He tells me to sit on the couch, I comply.

He disappears for a few seconds, and returns with the first aid kit.

"I'm going to take care of your hands, roll up your sleeves, please."

I feel uncomfortable at his request._ I know what I did to myself isn't wrong because I did it to keep myself in line, but I still don't want him to see._

"Here." He starts rolling them up for me.

_No, no, no. _

He pauses partway up. I can hear his breathing accelerate.

"Sherlock... did you do this?" He motions at my bandaged arms.

"I..." Hesitantly, I watch him, waiting in a reaction.

"Let me see." He steels his expression, and rolls up both of my sleeves.

This may not end well.

He removes the bandages and upon seeing the cuts closes his eyes taking several deep breaths.

"Why did you do this, Sherlock?" His voice cracks with emotion, me opens his eyes and I see tears in them.

"Jake... I... it's..." How do I explain this?

"What did you use?"

I remain silent. I guess we're playing quiet. This is going to hurt worse than answering.

"I'm not mad, please, just tell me what you used."

"Razor blade." I look away in... shame? Why am I ashamed? What am I ashamed of? Myself...

"Where is it?" He sighs.

"My bedroom." Refusing to look at him, I answer his questions.

"Why?"

_Why? _

I glance up at him, wondering what he's asking me.

"It's okay to talk, why did you do this to yourself?" He's holding back tears.

I hurt his feelings.

"It keeps me in line, and it makes me feel better..."

He takes hold of my arm. I close my eyes and duck my head in anticipation for the pain sure to come.

I'm shocked when I feel a gentle hand lift my chin instead of a harsh punch.

"Look at me." Jake's voice is rough, yet soft at the same time.

Slowly, I open my eyes.

_Is this a test? Is he going to make me watch whatever punishment he gives me? I hope he's fair with it... oh god, what if he takes my violin._

My eyes flick over to my violin that is sitting on the coffee table in front of me.

_Allan burned my violin... will Jake burn this violin? _

_I don't want to lose it again, I can't lose it again. _

_Allan was doing what's best... Jake will do what's best as well. _

_But, I don't want to lose my violin. _

"Sherlock, it's okay." Jake's words bring me back to the present.

"I'm sorry." I press my lips into a thin line and try not to cry. "Please don't take my violin."

"Never, I would never take it." He pulls my into him and hugs me tightly.

"I'm sorry I burned dinner."

"It's alright, I'm not mad, it's okay." He tries to reassure me.

"What are you going to do?" I pull away, missing the comfort, but knowing that I don't deserve it. looking at him with a mixture of apprehension and maybe a twinge of trust, I wonder his intentions and ponder my level of trust in him.

_Do I trust Jake? I've only known him for a short periods of time... do I trust him? _

Something inside of me tells me that I trust him, but another part of me says to never trust him.

"What do you mean?" He furrows his brows.

"I burned dinner."

"Yeah, and it's alright." He still looks confused.

"But... I burned dinner, it's normal practice for me to be in trouble for burning our food."

"What-, Sherlock, no..." He realizes what I'm saying and shakes his head no several times.

I watch him, wondering what he's thinking.

"It is_ not_ normal practice to be in trouble for burning food."

"Yes it is." I protest. "Allan says-"

"Sherlock." He cuts me off. "Listen to it like this, it's not normal practice to be in trouble for burning food anymore."

_Oh. _

"I have new rules?"

"Yes, you have new rules."

"I'm no longer in trouble for burning food?"

"No, you'll never be in trouble for that anymore."

"Can I close doors?" That is something I've missed.

"Of course, you can close doors as much as you want."

"Can I go outside?"

"Yes, you can go outside." He smiles.

"Do I still need to call you master?"

"No, you do not, and should not, call me master."

"Can I talk to people?"

"You can talk as much, and whenever you want."

"to anyone?"

"Yes, to anyone."

"Gererd?"

"Yeah, to Lestrade."

"Molly, and Mrs. Hudson?"

"Yes, them as well." His smile keeps getting bigger.

"Can I..." I shift anxiously.

"Can you what?" He looks patient.

"Can I solve cases?"

"Of course, there is nothing stopping you from solving every case that you want to." He chuckles.

I smile brightly, without forcing it, for the first time in forever.

_I can solve cases! _

However, just as quickly as the sun shone through, the darkness swept back in.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" Jake's smile fades and he looks concerned.

"Do we still have to... um..." I feel my face heating up. "have... sex a lot?"

His face pales for a second, then turns red.

"No, god, no." He runs a hand through his hair. "You _never_, ever, have to do that with anyone unless you want to."

"But, the rules-"

"The rules are changed, remember?" he reminds gently. "You don't have to have sex with anyone unless you want to."

"Okay." I look down. I disappointed him.

"Sherlock." Jake's voice draws my attention.

"Mm-hmm?" I hum in response.

"You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

"Mm-hmm." Once again, I hum in response.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Why won't you call me by my name?" He pauses then continues. "You know, by John."

"I'm not allowed to talk, think, speak to or about, John." I glance at him. "John would get hurt if I did."

"I'm John, Sherlock..."

"You're Jake, if you were John I would be in trouble..."

_He is John. _

_No, he's Jake. _

"How so?" he sounds interested.

"John would be angry that I burned food."

"Would he?" Jake's voice rings with an emotion I don't recognize.

"Yes."

"okay." _I think the emotion is one expressing hurt._

"Jake."

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Am I allowed to talk to John, now?"

"Yes." He breathes, looking relieved.

"Jake..."

"Yes?"

"Can I call you... John?"

"Of course, Sherlock."

"Thank you... John."

"You're more than welcome." He smiles once more.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Text**

"I think we need to take you to the hospital for these burns, they're very bad."

"Am I in trouble?" Shrining down, I watch the doctor as he looks at my hands.

"No, never." His eyes meet mine and hold steady even when I look away.

"Are you sure we have to go?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"I don't want to go."

"This is not a negotiation."

"Rules?"

"Yes, rules."

I stand up, and, despite the burning in my hands, take hold of my violin and head to my room to get dressed.

"Sherlock." John's voice stops me.

"Yes?" I turn and look at him.

_I knew this was to good to be true, it was all a test and I failed. _

"Give me the razor blade."

"Why?" I become defensive.

"Because the rules have changed, you don't need it to keep you in line or to feel better."

"Okay."

He follows me to my room.

I open the drawer that has my socks in it, and I pull out the razor blade.

"Give it here." John holds his hand out.

_Do it._

_I don't want to._

_Do it, John said you have to._

With hesitancy, I look at the blade with a strange feeling of longing in my stomach.

"It's alright." He steps forward and gently takes it from my hand. "You don't need it anymore."

"John." My heart skips a beat at the realization that I have my best friend back.

"Yeah?"

"Can I call Lestrade?"

"Yeah, get your phone and call him."

"... I don't have a phone."

John smiles.

"Glad to have you back." he hands me his phone.

I watch him leave.

"I'll let you close the door." He smiles before completely leaving my room.

I am allowed to close doors.

Walking over to the door, I slowly close it and get nervous when it clicks shut.

I'm going to be in trouble-

No, I'm allowed to close doors now.

Allan would be mad...

John is in charge now.

But Allan...

I find myself torn, but nevertheless, I change clothes and get ready to go.

I pass on a purple shirt that Mycroft bought me.

_He still thinks he can control me._

When he gave me the box of clothes his words were.

_"Your clothes are inadequate and stained, I sent someone to fetch you some new ones." _

My clothes were fine.

I also put on a pair of black trousers and a white shirt that John bought me when I was forced to return to 221B.

Keeping a throbbing hand on my violin, I use the other to call Lestrade.

"Hello?"

"Geoff?"

"Sherlock, how are you?" He sounds pleased to hear from me.

_No, people only act happy to hear from me. People don't like me. Only Allan likes me._

_Maybe John?_

_No, he might be acting._

_He changed the rules._

"You alright?" Lestrade's voice changes from pleased to worried.

"I'm fine, do you have any interesting cases?"

"Yeah, why don't you stop by in the morning and I'll show you some." Relief makes itself known in his tone.

"Alright." I agree happily.

"I'm glad to have you back."

"Goodbye, Gerry."

"Yeah, bye, Sherlock."

"Sherlock, are you ready?" John knocks on my door.

"Yes." I yell.

_Yelling is bad. Yelling gets you in trouble._

"Yes." I repeat in a hushed tone."Can I come in?"

"Yes."

The door opens, and even though I know it's John, I jump.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have closed the door." Without thinking, I apologize.

_I'm in trouble._

"Sherlock, it's okay." John touches my shoulder with a worried expression on his face. "You can close doors, and you don't have to whisper."

"You want me to talk loud?"

"Yes, you can talk as loud as you want."

"Okay." My voice returns to a normal volume instead of a whisper.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Okay, get your coat it's nippy out."

"Okay." I grab my coat.

"Let's go." He leaves my room.

Before I follow him, I grab my violin.

"I'm on my way." I call after him.

John leads the way out of the flat, and downstairs.

"How are you boys doing?" Mrs. Hudson greets us as we step off the stairs.

I move my violin out of eye sight.

_I'm not going to lose it, I'll be good._

"Very well, Mrs. Hudson." John responds to the lady.

"Sherlock." She gives me a hug, I stiffen slightly, but accept it. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Hudson." I smile at her. "I have missed you."

"Oh, I've missed you too." She laughs. "John is fine company, but I miss having you playing violin and shooting walls and all the ruckus you make at night."

_Is that good or bad?_

"How is Rosie?" John asks.

"She's fine, she's asleep right now."

"Thank you for watching her."

"Anytime." She yawns.

"We must be off." I nudge John with my elbow.

"Yes, we'll see you later." He nods.

"Goodbye, be careful." She calls after us.

John and I step out into the chilly air.

I take several deep breaths, relishing the feeling of the fresh air in my lungs.

_Wait, where's Allan?_

I look around for him.

_Wait..._

My shoulders slump.

_He's gone. Mycroft killed him. _

Fury settles in my belly at the memory of Mycroft telling me the fate of my lover.

_He killed Allan._

_No one cared but Allan, why would he take the only person who loved me away from me?_

"Sherlock." John's voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?" I glance at the blogger with sad eyes.

"The cabbie's waiting."

I sigh and get in the cab, John gets in next to me.

I get lost in my thoughts, ignoring John talking to the cabbie.

_I don't want to go to the hospital, my hands aren't that bad._

_I deserve the pain and burns anyway._

_I shouldn't have burned dinner._

_John says the rules have changed, but is it best that they changed?_

"Sherlock, are you alright?" John's using that voice. The voice that says, are you okay you broken piece of trash.

"I'm fine." I find myself snapping at him.

_Bad. No disrespect._

"I'm sorry." Quickly, I duck my head and apologize, pulling my violin closer to me.

_Allan would have kept me from doing that._

_What if John can't keep me in line?_

_What if Allan was the only person who could?_

"You don't have to apologize." He whispers, resting a hand on my shoulder. I stiffen up and look out my window.

_He knows how many times I messed up... why did he change the rules?_

_Allan set the rules because I'm to stupid to do anything right without them._

_Maybe... maybe John doesn't know that. Maybe I shouldn't have let him take the razor blade._

_I can get more... Allan would want me to stay in line._

_Allan would want me to follow the rules even if someone changed them._

_But, if I don't follow the new rules I'll be in trouble._

_What do I do?_

Slowly, the steady calming movement of the cab makes me drift off to sleep, still clutching my violin close to my chest.

_Hmm... Allan would... he loved me... and I should stay in... line..._


	21. Chapter 21

"Sherlock." A voice pulls me away from my slumber.

"Hmm?" I force my eyes open. "Allan?"

"No... it's John."

Glancing at the man next to me I realize that it is John... and that Allan is still, and forever, gone.

"John." I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Yeah, we're here."

Nodding, I get out of the cab with John. I assume that he already paid the cabbie, because the cabbie is driving off.

"Let's get you checked out." John leads the way inside the hospital.

_What are they going to do? _

_Maybe my hands aren't as bad as John thinks they are._

_Maybe they're worse._

_What if I lose my hands? _

_I couldn't play violin anymore... _

I tighten my grip on the violin despite the increase in pain it gives me.

_Oh, god... what if I can't use my hands anymore?_

Rationally and logically, I know that I'm worried for nothing, but the irrational part of my brain seems to be winning out.

"You alright, Sherlock?" John touches my arm, making me jump from my thoughts.

"Sorry."

"Calm down, it's alright." He gives me a small smile.

"How long will this take?" Setting my expression as uncaring, I hide that I don't want to know how bad my hands are burned.

"I'm not sure."

"I don't have time for this." I turn to leave, but John grabs my by the elbow.

"No, we are getting your hands checked."

"No, we have cases to solve."

"Sherlock." He turns on his stern military voice. "We are getting your hands checked."

"How has work been, I assume you've been fired since you haven't been leaving as much lately."

"Shut up." he let's go of me, and marches on ahead.

Now's my chance.

Before anyone is the wiser, I make a quick escape.

I don't need to be examined.

I'm not going to stuck around here, I'm going to go to St. Bart's and chat with Molly.

Safer, easier, and I don't have to explain myself to her.

After a walk to St. Bart's, I make my way to a familiar location inside.

I walk into the lab and set my violin down next to the microscope.

_I have missed this._

Looking around the room, I can't help but wonder how long it really has been since I was in here.

_Should I be here?_

Jake- John... John said I don't have rules, but it feels wrong being down here.

"Sherlock." I jump at the sound of a female voice behind me.

"Hello?" Turning around, I find myself relaxing when I see it's Molly. "Hello, Molly."

"Sherlock, what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" I smile at her.

"You're face is kind bruised up a little... and you don't look very well- I mean, you've always looked well- I-."

"Everything is fine, Molly."

_I've missed her._

"What are you doing here?"

"Can't I stop by and visit a friend?"

"Yes, but you don't."

"You've tried a new hairstyle, it looks nice on you." I compliment her.

"I'm not doing any favors today." She crosses her arms.

_I wasn't aiming at that... maybe I should have made that clear?_

"I'm just here, John is annoying me."

"I haven't seen you for months, and you just show up out of nowhere." _She seems upset, why?_

_New engagement ring, dark circles under her eyes, clothes appear to be slept in.. what could be troubling her? _

_Could she be having relationship difficulties? Her finger is slightly red around the ring, as if she's been twisting is quite a bit. _

_Relationship issues._

"How are things with your new fiancé?"

"Stop ignoring my questions." She snaps, slamming her hand on the table next to her making the items on the table shake, and making me flinch violently.

"I'm sorry." Comes out of my mouth naturally.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry." The anger leaves her and she approaches me slowly, as if I'm a wounded animal.

_Not her too._

"It's quite alright, Molly." Swallowing nervously, I watch her.

_She isn't going to hurt me. Even if she did, it would be for a good reason._

"Why haven't you been by in so long?" We maintain eye contact as she continues approaching.

"I've been busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Things."

"What things?" She stands inches away from me.

"Just... things." I give in first, looking away from her.

"Did these things have to do with why you're hurt?" Her words make me look at her again.

"I'm not hurt, I'm fine." I shove my hands in my pockets, not wanting Molly to see them.

"Mycroft come by a month ago, he was looking for you." She sounds sad. "He said no one had seen you, not even John."

"What do you want me to say, Molly?" Seeing no way to make the questions stop, I attack her with words.

"The truth, Sherlock!" She matches her volume to mine.

"Who the hell knows what the truth is? Most of our memories are constructed from our opinions of a situation, or our thoughts and feelings at the time, no one has an accurate memory, hence no one knows the truth."  
"The truth about what, Sherlock?" Her face shows hurt and determination.  
"You're having a fight with your fiancé, this isn't your shift, you chose to work it to give you time away from him. You're phone has vibrated three times, and you haven't made a move for it."  
"And you're still ignoring my questions."

We stand there, analyzing each other for several seconds before we hear a door open.

Both of us shift our attention to the door.

"Sherlock." It's John. "We are not going to do this today, we are going to get your hands looked at."

"What's wrong with his hands?" Molly looks surprised.

My hands are still in my pockets.

"Nothing."

"Let me see." She demands.

"They're fine."

"Sherlock, we're going back to the hospital, now." John is using his military doctor voice again.

"Show me your hands." Molly continues pestering me.

"Shut up, everyone shut up!" I shout, irritated that no one will leave me alone.

_Bad, shouting is bad._

_John changed the rules._

_Shouting is bad._

_Johns changed the rules._

_Shouting is bad!_

"What happened to him?" Moly turns to John.

"His ex boyfriend abused him, and no_W HE'S BEING A COCK_!" John yells at me.

Once again, his words hurt, yet satisfy me.

However, the hurt outweighs the satisfaction. I slip past John and leave the lab.

_The rules changed did they?_

_Time to make him realize they should stay the same._


	22. Chapter 22

_Where to go?_

I'm walking the streets wondering where I should go.

_I'm going to be in trouble for running away, but I don't care. _

One place keeps coming into my mind, I have a spare flat I keep in case of emergencies, Mycroft knows where it is though...

_Drug den?_

Perfect, I could use a fix right now.

Quickly, I rout my way to a drug den.

This is a good idea, why didn't I think of it sooner?

After stopping by my dealer and getting some drugs, I go and find a spot in the drug den.

_Allan would be angry._

_Well, Allan is gone now. So, why shouldn't I go whatever the fuck comes into my head?_

_John will be mad. _

_John doesn't care._

_Mycroft will be mad. _

_Good._

You see, the great thing about drug dens is no on pays attention to who you are, other than the dealer of course.

I could hide out here for the rest of my life and no one would be the wiser.

Unless someone came looking for me, then I would be in an awkward situation, considering I'm supposed to be clean.

Before I have time to rethink my decision, I start the process.

_Tourniquet, find a vein _

_This is a wonderful idea, why didn't I think of it sooner?_

While it is harder with burned hands, I still accomplish my task.

_"Because you're a stupid cock."_

Allan's words ring in my head.

_True, true._

Previous steps being completed, now it's time for the final step... Injection.

_Really, I should have come here as soon as I could. I've spent god only knows how long in that wretched flat with a man who doesn't care about me._

_Fuck John's new rules. Allan knew best, and now he's gone._

_What am I to do with myself now? _

_Allan and I were going to move to another city at some point... maybe I should do that. _

_No, Mycroft would drag me back. _

_Fuck you Mycroft, Fuck you and you're stupid government. _

I close my eyes, relishing the feeling of the drugs in my system.

_I have missed this._

When I come out of my high, I realize something that I should have long ago.

_I left my violin at the lab. _

_Shit._

I know that I can't go back for it, but the loss of it again breaks my heart.

_What do I do?_

My hands are feeling a little better, that's good.

I examine them, it appears the burn is only a first degree. My skin is intact, but it still hurts a lot.

_Maybe I should have gone to the hospital._

_No, absolutely not. _

_What if John is worried about me? _

_No, he wouldn't be worried about me._

_What am I going to do, I've been gone over night... what if he's looking for me?_

_He wouldn't bother, he doesn't care._

I wish I were able to ignore the hollowness in my stomach. Even though I don't eat much, I do get hungry sometimes. I didn't eat anything yesterday, and John's been making me eat... so now I am experiencing hunger.

_What do I do?_

_Teach myself I don't deserve it, hence I can't want it._

_I don't deserve food, so I'm not going to get any._

As the day wears on I remember that George said I could stop by and see new cases.

_Maybe it wouldn't hurt to go see a few..._

I force myself up and feel my head spinning.

_Most likely low blood sugar, nothing to worry about._

My head is a bit foggy, but I go outside onto the street and look around. Now... how do I get to Scotland yard?

After five minutes of reminding my brain where everything is, I find myself at Scotland yard.

I should have taken a cab, but I don't have any currency to pay. I spent the last of it on a fix.

Walking towards Lestrade's office as if I'm not dizzy and feeling like I'm going to pass out, I look around to see who is present today.

Anderson and Donovan are watching me with pitying looks, it makes me angry, but I keep to myself.

I stop at Gordon's door, pausing for a second to compose myself, then I open it.

"What cases do you have?" Are the first words I say to him

"Sherlock!" He rushes over to me, looking surprised to see me. "John and Mycroft are looking for you."

_Shit._

"Cases." I repeat, ignoring that John and Mycroft are searching for me.

"Where have you been?" He sits down behind his desk, and I remain standing.

"Geoff, I don't have time for this, what cases do you have?"

"I have to call Mycroft." Lestrade picks up his phone.

"Do you have cases or not?!" I snap, growing tired of being questioned.

"Mycroft, we got him." He is now talking to my brother on the phone.

I shake my head and turn to leave.

"Wait, don't go, I have cases." Lestrade shouts.

"You have five seconds to interest me."

"Serial killer."

"... Continue."

"Well, people keep getting killed in the same way and... umm..."

"Is this another trick?" I feel my face turning to a scowl.

"No!" He shakes his head no rapidly.

"Where and how?" I sit down across from him.

"They're being overdosed, and we've found bodies in different places, mostly on trolleys."

"What makes you think it's a serial killer?" I find this uninteresting.

"Everything about it, it doesn't say suicide does it?"

_No, but I do._

"You're stalling." I realize.

The door behind me opens and in walks Mycroft.

"Hello, Brother mine."

"You tricked me." I stand to my feet, outraged and betrayed. "Two times you've done this." I seethe.

This is not okay.

"Sherlock-" Lestrade looks remorseful.

"No." I can't seem to find it in myself to care.

"It was my idea." Mycroft buds in.

"That makes it worse." My anger is directed at both of them.

"You were missing, we could only assume you'd gone and done something... stupid." He glares at me. "Did you make a list?"

"List?" Lestrade looks confused.

"I think I'll be leaving now." My vision decides to go black when I stand up, making me sway on my feet.

"Call Dr. Watson, Sherlock may need medical attention." Mycroft pushes me back down into my seat.

"Right." Lestrade just shakes his head and does as he's told.

I ignore Mycroft and listen to Lestrade's conversation with John.

"John, we found him... he's here in my office... No... He's a bit worked up, and Mycroft keeps asking him about a list... Oh shit... yes, we'll call and have him taken-... right."

"To the hospital for you, Brother mine." Mycroft whispers to me.

"Piss off." I snarl.

_Why won't he leave me alone?_


	23. Chapter 23

For the second time, I'm escorted out of Scotland Yard by EMTs.

_This is less than ideal..._

_Shit, it's not ideal at all!_

_This is stupid, fuck you Mycroft, and fuck you Gerald, and you too... John. _

_No, I can't let feelings keep me from being mad. _

_I'm not a baby, why won't they leave me alone?_

I sit in the ambulance and pout.

Lestrade and Mycroft get in the back of the ambulance with me.

"How long ago did you take the drugs?" Lestrade asks gently.

**Silence.**

_I'm not talking to him. He betrayed me._

"Don't try talking to him, Gregory." Mycroft turns to his lover. "He's being ridiculous."

"You betrayed me." I look at them with accusing eyes.

"We're doing all of this for your own good." Lestrade tries to make his actions justified.

_Traitors. _

"You don't honestly think you're going to fool me into believing you have my best interest in mind."

"It's the truth!" Lestrade is getting frustrated.

"Liar." Looking away from my so-called friends, I hate that I fell for their game again.

"Dr. Watson is worried about you." Mycroft tries to talk to me. "You're lucky I don't have you committed to a facility upon your release from the hospital."

"What's stopping you?" I snarl. "You're weight, or the leg work?"

"Sherlock, we're all worried about you." Lestrade's voice is soft and gentle once more.

"Oh, such a shame." I use excessive sarcasm. "What causes you to lose sleep over me?"

"Brother mine, drop the act, even Gregory sees through it."

Lestrade looks slightly offended, but keeps it to himself.

"You're putting on weight again, and you've been exercising."

Mycroft glances at Lestrade.

"You're favoring your right side, and you've injured your knee."

"perceptive of all but yourself." Mycroft's face doesn't shift in the slightest.

"You deceived me for the last time." My feeling, or what feelings I have, are hurt.

"It's your own fault." Mycroft clicks his umbrella against the ambulance floor. "You shouldn't have run away from John."

"I didn't run away." I yell and try to get up. Lestrade stops me, pushing me back down onto the stretcher.

"How's that?" Lestrade doesn't let me go.

"He said I could go outside whenever I want." I try to shove Lestrade away from me.

"He gave you an order, it would seem your regressing, Brother mine." Mycroft glares.

"I don't need a hospital." I cross my arms.

"Your hands are burned." He says.

"Amazing, tell me more that I don't know." I roll my eyes. _I swear, every minute I spend with Mycroft takes away five brain cells. He may think he's smarter, but I'm the one the police call, not him._

_Not true anymore; Lestrade asks my brother for help._

_I despise them._

"You're sick."

"No I'm not." My voice sounds with outrage at the ridiculous deduction. "I'm not sick."

"In there." Mycroft touches my forehead.

"Keep your hands off of me." I bristle at the physical contact. "I'm not your personal assistant, save your hands for Lestrade and Anthea."

"Anthea is no longer with us." His face doesn't change.

"Then whatever the hell her name is." I swear, I'm losing intelligence every second I'm forced to talk to him.

"I never had relations with any of my staff." Mycroft defends himself.

"Of course not, that's why you never let her go anywhere with you, oh, wait."_ I'm serious, I'm losing my brain over this meaningless conversation._ "She went everywhere with you."

I see Lestrade shift an inch away from Mycroft.

"Does that make you uncomfortable, Lestrade?" I feel satisfaction.

"Nah." He doesn't move closer to Mycroft.

"Yes it does." I stare him down. "You moved an inch from Mycroft, and you aren't glancing at him occasionally now."

"He's trying to make you leave, Gregory."

"Who the hell is Gregory?" Frustration gets the better of me.

"Lestrade's first name is Gregory." Mycroft shakes his head scoffing.

"I'm not stupid!" I snarl.

"I never said you were."

"The corner of your mouth turned up into a smirk, you pushed your shoulders back and puffed out your chest slightly."

"I do believe that we're approaching the hospital, now." Mycroft turns to Lestrade. "You can alert Dr. Watson and Ms. Hooper of my brothers condition once we leave the ambulance."

"You do know we're not supposed to be back here anyways, right?" Lestrade looks concerned.

"I'm the government, Gregory." Mycroft's eyes flash with pride for a second. "They wouldn't dare deny me whatever I wish."

Lestrade looks even more uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Where is the list?" Mycroft asks.

I decide now is as good of a time as any to play the silent card. _I don't know these men, and I refuse to speak to them. _

"Where is your violin?"

_Don't answer him. Don't answer him. Don't answer him._

_Don't. Answer. Him._


	24. Chapter 24

The ambulance doors open and the EMTs let Mycroft and Lestrade exit before they get me out of the ambulance.

"Alright, we're going to move the stretcher and get you out, alright?"

"I'm not child." I'm still seething in anger over being betrayed.

"Okay." The EMT's nod to each other before getting me out of the ambulance.

_Stupid Mycroft, how dare he? What gave him the audacity to capture me against me will? I would tell him what I think of him, but that would involve acknowledging his existence, which I'm NOT doing. _

"We'll be waiting for you, Sherlock." Lestrade gives me what should be an encouraging smile, but I can see in it is smugness from having fooled me again.

_Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, fool me three times... fool me three times and I'll kick you arse to the curb._

"John will be here soon, he has important matters to attend to." _He means more important than you. _

"Screw you." My lips draw back in a snarl.

"You're welcome." Mycroft's face shows nothing.

_He did this because he hates me. He killed Allan, and now everything is falling apart around me. My world will never be the same. Why couldn't he just let me have my happiness? _

_I deserve to be happy, and I deserve the man I love... loved... the man I loved. _

_Screw you Mycroft. __**Screw. You**_ **.**

I'm wheeled inside where a doctor walks alongside talking to the EMTs.

"Burned hands, and a drug overdose, we're not sure what he took or how long ago it was."

"Put it in room three." The doctor disappears from my side.

"I'm fine, and it was not an overdose." I cross my arms and pout.

"What did you take?" One of the EMTs asks in a gentle voice. I hate it.

"I'm not a child!" My voice raises in anger. "Leave me alone!"

"Your family called for you to be taken in because you overdosed, we're not the police." The EMT doesn't yell, but his voice is stern. I can't seem to make myself care, though. "We just want to help."

"If you want to help me, than let me go home." My mind is buzzing with observations and deductions of things around me.

_There, the EMT who keeps trying to talk to me: Affair. His hand shows a ring mark, it's red and irritated as if a ring were removed recently, and his hand is tanned where the ring should be. _

_The doctor who was taking to the EMTs: She's working a double shift, her clothes are wrinkled, and her words were slightly slurred, there was a faint smell of coffee on her, and if I'm not mistaken, which I'm never mistaken, there were large bags under her eyes. _

_There, that nurse: She's Being abused, there are obvious bruises around her neck that are not cleverly covered by-... makeup... _

_"How does this look?" I asked Allan in a small voice. I just applied makeup so I can go to Scotland yard to be a character witness. _

_"I wish you didn't have to go." His face was contorted into anger. _

_"I know, but it's not Lestrade who summoned me, it's a detective Gregory, and I'll be back in an hour." I rested a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him. _

_"If that a promise?" He relaxed a bit, the anger slowly leaving. _

_"Yes, it's a promise." I caught his lips in a kiss and relish the feeling it gives me. "How do I look?" _

_"Wonderful, you can't even tell anything's there." He hugged me and gave me a passionate kiss. "I love you, so, so, much."_

_"I love you too." Butterflies became present in my stomach and I felt a high greater than any high a drug had ever given me. _

_"I'm sorry that you got bruised a bit, you just made me so mad... and I had to remind you who's in charge."_

_"I know, it's alright, I know you were only doing what was best for me." _

_"That's why I love you, Sherlock." Allan kissed my forehead. "You know the truth..." _

"That you're never going to stay in line unless someone keeps you there." The words are barely a whisper as they come from my mouth. Those words Allan said to me not so long ago, those were the last words we were allowed to exchange face to face...

_Maybe I'm not alright after all._

_Stockholm syndrome, when a victim becomes attached to their capture and/or abuser. _

_A victim if kept in an abusive environment for a long time can believe that the abuse is their fault, and that they are inherently bad and deserve the pain... _

_Could I...?_

_No, absolutely not, there is not way... Allan loved me... he would never... _

_What is the truth anymore?_

"What did you take, son?" An older man comes into room three. He's holding a clipboard and he has a nurse with him. I'm assuming he's a doctor.

"Leave me alone." My voice lacks the bite it had moments ago. My world is being shaken, and I don't know what to believe right now.

"Listen here." The doctor sits on the edge on my bed while the nurse starts an IV. "We're all here to help you, we're not the police, and we're not going to send you to jail."

"Heroin and cocaine mixture." I look away.

"Okay, thank you." He nods. "We're gonna help you, alright?"

I don't answer, I barely acknowledge that he spoke.

_Am I alright? _

_What did I do to end up with Allan angry and hurting me- _

Could he have been _abusive-_

_No, he was keeping me in line, he was not abusive._

_Stockholm syndrome, victim becoming attached to their capture/abuser... _

_Allan's words could be read as abusive if they were taken out of context. _

_I deserved that though, I'm fine. He was doing that for me, to keep me in line, it's all my fault that I'm in this situation. It's okay._

_It's not okay, and I'm not okay._

_No, I'm fine._

_No... I'm not._

_Yes, I am... I'm fine, I don't deserve to be anything less than fine, so I don't have the right to be anything less than fine. _

I don't know what scares me more, the thought of admitting to myself that I'm not okay, or the thought of admitting that there is a possibility that not all of this is all my fault.


	25. Chapter 25

"Mr. Holmes." A woman's voice pulls me from my thoughts. I was moved to a room around an hour ago, after they drew several vials of blood to test. Right now the course of treatment is 'push fluids and make sure I'm observed for at least 24 hours.' _Typical._

"Yes?" exhaustion is weighing on my body and mind.

"Your family would like to see you, would it be alright if we send them in?"

"What family?"

"There are three men and a child waiting to see you.

"Send them in." I sit up and try to at least look like myself.

_I'm being a pretentious bastard, why would I bother think that people care? They don't. _

_I'm a hypochondriac, I do not have Stockholm syndrome, and I was not abused. I'm just over reacting, nothing happened that hadn't happened before. _

_Knocked around a bit, John's knocked me around..._

_Sex without desire... it's happened, although when it happened before it was rape, in my relationship it was a necessary deed to keep Allan appeased. No big deal. Everything is fine. _

_I want to smack myself for even considering that Allan could have been abusive. _

_I'm so stupid, I must be seeking attention. He was not abusive, I'm just being stupid and attention seeking. _

"Daddy." I hear a child's voice and look up to see Rosie standing beside my bed.

"No, I'm not daddy." I can't help but smile at her.

"Daddy." She holds her arms up, wanting me to hold her.

_How could I deny her?_

I reach down despite the IV in my arm, and I pick her up, setting her on the bed beside me.

"How are you feeling?" Lestrade's looking anywhere but me.

"Fine, Lestrade." I smile as I watch Rosie playing with the remote for the telly.

"Where were you?" John's arms are crossed as he stands at the foot of my bed.

"I went out." I look up at him, away from the now drifting off Rosie, hardening my face. "Isn't that in the rules that I can leave?"

"No, Sherlock." John is getting angry. "You burned your hands, slit your wrists, and then you ran off."

"What?" Lestrade looks shocked. "He did what?"

"Quiet, Rosie is almost asleep." I snap quietly.

"He slit his wrists." John repeats in a smaller tone.

"God." Lestrade looks sick. "Why, Sherlock."

"If I wanted to have a social conversation about it I would have brought it up." I find it hard to contain my anger, but Rosie sleeping on my arm keeps me back.

Hold it back for her. Hold it back for Rosie.

"Brother Mine, I think we should discuss where you went." Mycroft sits in a chair next to my bed.

"It's done, why does it matter right now?" My shoulders stiffen. _I must hold myself together. For Rosie._

"Your hands were only first degree burns, your wrists were cut deeply and required eight stitches in total, you had enough drugs still in your system to-"

"She's asleep, can't you keep it down." I growl at Mycroft, pulling Rosie closer and keeping an arm around her protectively.

"She's sound asleep, you're projecting." Mycroft's face doesn't give.

"She deserves some peace and quiet, she deserves to rest."

"She or you?" Mycroft continues.

"Rosie does." I hate that he thinks I'm talking about myself.

"Your doctor said you kept repeating a phrase while they were stitching you up." John makes his voice known once more.

"Why does this matter." I keep an eye on Rosie.

"He said you said '_That you're never going to stay in line unless someone keeps you there_', and that you completely dissociated for the duration of your treatment until they brought you to this room."

"Torture gives you advantages." I say sharply, but quiet my voice when Rosie starts shifting.

"At least you admit that Allan's treatment of you was torture." He sounds relieved.

"What?" I'm confused.

"What?" John looks even more confused.

"I was speaking if Serbia..."

"When you were dismantling Moriarty's network, you mentioned it." John nods, still confused, but then it hits him. "Oh god, you were tortured while you were dead."

"Naturally, if one is captured one is to be tortured." I roll my eyes but want to hide and stop remembering Serbia.

"Oh god." John is still in shock. "You were..."

"John, it's nothing to be concerned about." I'm unsure how to handle this situation.

"You _cock_." Anger wins over the shock. "You said you were just dismantling the network."

"You didn't want to hear the story."

"Don't turn this on me." His face is turning red. "You were tortured, and you didn't tell me."

"You didn't want to know about it." I look away, losing the battle. "You don't want to know about it."

"Sherlock, do you have nightmares about it?" John sits on the edge of my bed.

"No." _Yes._

"What did Allan do about the nightmares?" He takes a deep breath.

"What nightmares?"

"You've screamed every night that you've been home, when I go check on you you're always having a nightmare."

"I'm fine." Everything inside is screaming at me for being weak and not feeling alright.

"What would Allan do about nightmares?"

"Kick me out of the room to sleep where I belong."

"Where?" John's voice is tight.

"Kennel." I shrug. "Better than a Serbian cell any day."

"Sherlock..." John's voice rings with an emotion I don't recognize, when I look at him I see tears in his eyes.

"What did I do wrong?" Anxiety twists my stomach.

"You didn't do anything wrong." John looks as if he's struggling to hold back the tears.

"Why are you upset?" I furrow my brows.

"Because people have hurt you, Sherlock." He loses the battle of tears as one falls down his face.

"It's perfectly natural, John." I shake my head.

"No, no, it's not." He shakes his head.

"Yes, it is." I protest. "You've hurt me before."

"God." John covers his face with his hands.

"John?" Now I'm worried I messed up.

"Sherlock... god, I shouldn't have hurt you." He removes his hands from his face and he looks distraught. "It's never okay to hurt someone, _never_."

"But, when I came back from Serbia and told you I was alive, and when I killed Mary, your anger was justified."

"But hurting you wasn't- oh god, you just came back from being tortured when I attacked you?!"

"It's nothing, John."

"That is something!" He screeches, waking Rosie up who begins crying.

"Shh, it's alright." I set her up in my lap and shush her. "Go back to sleep, love."

"Daddy." She whines as she nuzzles into my arm, going back to sleep.

"Sherlock, you're going back to Bakers street, but if you leave again you're being sent to a facility."

"Again, Mycroft?" I sigh, tired of his threats. "Really, I think that the first time was enough."

"What?" John turns to Mycroft.

"When Sherlock was first in Uni he took to many drugs, he was messed up, and by all definition a junkie." Mycroft looks disgusted. "I sent him to a fa cility for a short amount of time so he would be straightened out."

"Straight jackets and padded walls are the way to fix it, aren't they Mycroft." I hiss sarcastically.

"Okay, calm down." Lestrade steps between myself and his boyfriend. "This isn't important at the moment."

"Like hell." John looks pissed. "Sherlock was committed, tortured, abused, and now he's a junkie hooked on drugs and cutting."

"That was one time, John." In attempt to defend myself, I plead my case before a judge more ruthless than anyone I've ever met... I plead my case to my best friend, John.

"Deep enough that you needed eight stitches." he points out.

"True, but it was only once."

"Sherlock." Mycroft says in a warning tone, I look at him with a look that says 'shut up.'

"What's this look?" John is being paranoid.

"Nothing." I answer.

"Sherlock has a past." Mycroft's voice takes precedence over mine.

"Good, god, he's done it before hasn't he?"

"Yes and no." Mycroft clicks his umbrella on the floor.

"Sherlock used to injure himself when we were younger, he did it to cope with the loss of his best friend and his sister."

"Eurus and Victor Trevor." John whispers.

"Yes, he would do a number of things, it went unnoticed by our parents, but I noticed."

I feel like mocking his words but I'm not a child, I will not mock him... I will not...

_But I noticed._

_Shit, I mocked him in my head._

_Maybe I'm not an adult._

_Piss off inner voice._

"What would he do?"

"Challenge any children stupid enough to cross paths with him, Sherlock has never been a very excellent fighter, so he would purposely get into fights so he would be injured."

"I picked fights to become a better fighter."

"Oh, I suppose the burning was so you could be a better fire fighter then, and cutting was so you could be a better knife fighter?" Mycroft's voice drips with sarcasm, and John's face goes pale.

"He...?"

"Yes, he did burn himself and cut himself only a handful of times before I took all of his sharp objects and lighters."

Everyone looks at me, but I just raise my chin defiantly and pray to a god I don't believe in that I can get out of here soon.

"Anything else?"

"Oh I could go on for days with the things he would do to himself." Mycroft scoffs. "I listed the most notable, other than his one attempt at running away."

"If you have any respect for me than stop this." I snap at my brother, slightly disturbing Rosie, I shush her as I glare at my brother.

"Good thing we're above respect." Mycroft forces a smile. I want to wipe that smile off his face with his own stupid tie.

"Maybe we should stop." Lestrade looks awkward. "He's a bit uncomfortable."

"I've never seen any scars aside from when he returned home from the hospital after Allan..." John seems to be in shock... again.

"Sherlock is decent at hiding things when he doesn't want goldfish to see." Mycroft glares back.

"Stop it." I feel anger boiling inside of me and I just want to scream.

"Oh, pity, we were having such a heart to heart."

"Leave." I narrow my eyes at my brother.

"Now, is that any way to treat your own brother."

"Is this any way to treat your brother?" I retort defiantly.

"Mycroft, come on, we can come back in the morning to pick him up."

"Alright, Gregory." Mycroft agrees.

"Focus of getting better." Lestrade nods to me before he and Mycroft leave without another word.

_Oh, was it something I said?_

_Shit, even my thoughts are sarcastic now._

"Sherlock, I'm going to have to be going too." John looks sorrowful.

"Alright." I glance down at Rosie, feeling my heart twist in pain at the thought of letting her go.

"I'll be back in the morning, I'll bring Rosie too." He smiles as he reaches and takes Rosie from me.

Rosie starts whining, but quickly goes back to sleep on John's shoulder.

"Bye, Sherlock, we'll be back in the morning." John reaches in his pocket with his free hand and sets a phone down on my bed. "This is your new phone, it has your old number, and your free to use it as much as you want."

"Thank you." I'm genuinely grateful.

"If you need me, you call."

"Okay." I smile.

"Bye, Sherlock." John leaves with that.

I pick up the phone and dial in a number, I have a phone call to make.

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"I need you, John."


	26. Chapter 26

_What am I doing?_

John walks back into my room and I feel like face palming.

_Stupid. Stupid. This isn't the days before I 'died', this is the days where John is acting like he cares. He doesn't care. Stop being clingy. I'm such a bastard, someone kill me before I screw up anymore. _

"What is it, Sherlock." John looks impatient..._ I think... _

"Nothing, it was an experiment."

"Sherlock..." His voice is more stern now.

"It was an experiment, goodnight." I sharpen my voice intentionally.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

"... I'm here for you, alright?" John stands in the doorway awkwardly, still holding a sleeping Rosie.

Refusing to answer, I close my eyes and steeple my fingers.

_I can almost imagine past John hesitating at the doorway, but I know he's not past John, this is now John... he's upset that I called him. _

_Stupid, you're so stupid, Sherlock. Look what happens when you forget your place and that people don't care... you deceive yourself into thinking that things are different then they are. _

_You called John, hoping for the John that enjoyed your company before you died, he's gone. He died with you on that day. The only difference between him and you, is that he's not coming back. _

"Sherlock-... alright... I'll see you... later." John's voice expresses an emotion I don't understand. What is that tone?

_Look what you did, you made him hate you. _

_Stupid cock, you pretend that your smart, you can't even name the planets... you can't even remember all of your cases anymore. _

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

_You've fooled everyone into thinking you're brilliant, now they're finding out that you're nothing but a dick pretending to be someone. _

_They're all going to leave you, it's your fault. It's all your fault._

After several minutes, I hear John's footsteps walking away from my room. Slowly, I open my eyes and look around.

_Mycroft's right. Attachments are dangerous, sentiment is a chemical defect found only in the losing side._

_Maybe, maybe, Mycroft is right about other things... maybe I am the stupid one... _

_Perhaps- no...no... Yes. I am the stupid one, I've fooled everyone including myself. Now, everyone sees the truth that I'm an ordinary goldfish like the rest of them._

_The sounds around the hospital are loud and close, yet quiet and far away._

_The beeping of the heart monitor to my left is infuriating, the footsteps and pointless chattering all around me is driving me insane._

_That implies you had any sanity to begin with._

_Piss off._

My eyes flicker down to my wrists.

_If only I'd cut deeper... maybe I would have avoided this whole mess._  
_Are you suicidal, Sherlock? Sooo disappointing. _  
_Shut up._

"Only eight stitches." My voice doesn't sound like my own. Yet, yet, it sounds more like myself than I've ever heard before. "Only eight..."

_You should have done better. _

_Shut... shut up._

A soft knocking erupts from my door, in a split second I find myself staring at a Molly Hooper.

"How are you feeling, Sherlock?" She doesn't approach me, she just stands in the doorway, as if afraid to come closer.

"Fine." I'm aware that my voice is jaded, but I don't care anymore.

"I brought you... umm..." She hesitates, then walks toward me with slow and deliberate movements. "I brought your violin to you... you left it... and..."

My eyes lock with hers.

_No, this isn't right. I don't deserve the violin according to everyone who has spent five minutes in my presence. _

"Umm... John said you were here, so I thought that you'd like it back... Sherlock, why did you hurt yourself?" Her voice is soft, yet pain filled. _Why?_

"You must be mistaken." I steeple my fingers, but don't close my eyes.

"No, John said you cut yourself... and when I ran into him outside he said you weren't doing very well."

"He's wrong, I'm fine." I snap at the brunette woman.

She looks taken aback, and there are tears in her eyes.

"I should be going, I hope you feel better soon." She lays the violin down in the bed and as quickly as she appeared, she leaves.

_Look what you did, Sherlock. You chased her away. She knows that you're a freak. Everyone knows you're a pathetic freak that deserved everything that happened in Serbia. _

_Leave me alone._

The violin on the bed next to me keeps catching my eye, as if asking me to pick it up and play.

_I don't have my bow._

My hands act upon their own will, picking up the violin and plucking at the strings.

_You're never going to survive without Allan. You're nothing without him._

_Shut up, just leave me alone..._

_I'm you, I'll never leave you alone._

My inner voice has grown more critical since my return from Serbia, my time with Allan helped to mold my inner voice into the perfect weapon for keeping me aware of who I am.

_If only Allan were here to be proud of me. _

_Mycroft. Fucking Mycroft. The motherfucking motherfucker. _

_I want Allan. I want Allan. I want Allan. I want Allan. I want Allan. I want him __**now**__._

"Knock, Knock." A nurse steps in with a fake cheery smile and even faker attitude.

"Why won't anyone leave me alone?!"

"Calm down, Mr. Holmes, I'm just here to check your vitals."

"Check them later." My hands grip the neck of my violin and I just want to escape this hell.

"Sorry, sir, I have to check them now." She acts as if she's sorry, but I know she's not. No one is sorry. No one is sorry and no one cares.

**_Can't they just leave me alone?_**


	27. Chapter 27

_You're late, again, as usual." Mycroft's words cut like a knife. I rushed to meet him, I had run as quickly as I could. _

_I said nothing as we fall into step together, him lecturing me about making good first impressions._

_"Mummy said I have to take you to the playground today, at least act civilized for once in your life." _

_"I don't want to go to the playground, I want to go play with Redbeard." _

_"His name is __**Victor,**__ have, at least, some respect for given names." _

_"But, Mike-" _

_"Mycroft, my name is __**Mycroft**__." He snapped, striding several steps ahead, forcing me to sprint to catch up. _

_"Mum calls you Mike!" My voice turned to a loud shout when Mycroft pushed me down. _

_"I hate being called Mike!"_

_"Stop being mean." My arms crossed over my chest protectively. It's not my fault Mycroft is a grumpy dick about being called Mike. _

_"I'm not, you're being annoying, it's your fault I have to take you out today anyway!"_

_"How?" I forced myself to my feet, planting myself firmly in place before I said the next word. "__**Mike**__."_

_Mycroft glared at me with anger blazing in his eyes. _

_Staying where I was, I raised my chin defiantly. "Tell me, __**Mike**__." _

_"Because you're annoying and lack the intelligence to keep your opinion to yourself when mum asks if we want to go play." _

_"You said you wanted to play." _

_"No, I said I didn't want to go play." _

_"Then why are we going to the playground, I could be playing with Redbeard." _

_"__**Victor**__." Mycroft hisses, still glaring. _

_"Red Beard." _

_"Stop being annoying." _

_"I'm not annoying." _

_A group of Uni students was walking our way I recognize them. Steven, Jerome, Tyler, Nathan, and Marcus. Mycroft watched them with an anxious look on his face. _

_"Hey, look guys, it's the kid who tried to talk shop with us." Steven sneered as he and his band of 'men' gathered around Mycroft and I. _

_"Pleased to see you again, now if you'll excuse us, we must be going." Mycroft grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me down the sidewalk, but I feel a hand pull me backwards onto the ground. _

_"Nah, I think we have time to talk, __**Mike.**__" Tyler's hand is the one that grabbed me I discover while sprawled on the ground._

_I realized how screwed we were when Mycroft complied and stepped back into the center of the of group boys. _

_The conversation quickly turned from underlying threats to obvious threats._

_"You think you're smarter than us?" Marcus, the strongest of the students, held Mycroft's arm behind his back. _

_"Stop it." Mycroft groaned as he kept pushing it further and further, risking a sprain or a spiral fracture._

_"Leave him alone." I fought out of Steven and Nathan's arms and pushed the Marcus as hard as I could, trying to get him away from Mycroft. he let go of Mycroft's arm and looked at me with a mixture of anger and amusement. _

_"Sherlock, no." Mycroft's eyes grew wide in fear, Jerome and Tyler grabbed him, holding him back when he tried to get to me. _

_"Oh, what are you going to do about it?" Marcus stepped away from Mycroft, and poked me in the chest, trying to provoke me. _

_"There are numerous things I could do to you, however, most of them are illegal and I do not desire any time behind bars." _

_"Oh, you think you're a big guy, do you?"_

_"Obviously bigger than you." I remember being shocked when a hand hit me across the face._

_"Oh, the baby's gonna go cry to his mommy." The group of boys laughed, Mycroft being held back as the other's that remained gathered around me. _

_"Your quarrel is with me, leave him out of it!" Mycroft fought against the two boys holding him. _

_"Oh, is he your little buddy." Steven grabbed my shoulder tightly, squeezing it harder making me wince._

_"Piss off!" I tried to shake from his grip, but found it only got tighter. _

_"Let's take this to the alley." Marcus popped his knuckles, my eyes grew wide, but before I could run, Marcus grabbed me and pulled me into the alley, Tyler and Jerome dragging Mycroft kicking and throwing insults. _

_This is going to hurt like hell._

_The first punches and kicks were landed on Mycroft, to keep him from trying to get to me. _

_Marcus stood over me, hand raised ready to deliver the first blow._

_"I'm going to enjoy this-" _

"Sherlock, wake up."

"Stop!" I sit up and nearly fall out of bed.

"Easy." I recognize the voice, it's not Steven, Marcus, Tyler, Jerome, or Nathan... it's Lestrade.

Taking several deep breaths, still scanning the room for any threats, when my eyes land on Mycroft I feel a mixture of relief and frustration.

"How did you sleep, Brother mine?" He ignores my obvious nightmare.

"Fine." I flop back down in the bed, trying to calm my pounding heart.

"Looked like you were having a nightmare." Lestrade's voice betrays worry.

I can't help but scoff.

Obviously.

"What was it about?"

Silence is his answer.

"He was having a nightmare about our neighborhood bullies as children." Mycroft clicks his umbrella on the ground.

I'm aware I'm staring at him with shock and anger, but I don't care.

"What?" Lestrade seems confused. "How-"

"He said several names from our childhood, and accompanied with his repeated stops, I can deduce he was dreaming of an altercation between him and some bullies."

Looking down in shame, I can't help but feel violated for some reason.

"Holmes." Lestrade's mutter is barely audible.

"Could be worse, you could have all three of them in one room." John's voice rings through the air. Almost like a programming, my head swivels to meet his gaze, to see my blogger. Than I remember that he's not my blogger, that he's not John. he's John.

"Ah, glad you could make it, John." Lestrade greets the blonde.

"Go to Sherlock, Rosie." John set's Rosie down and she stumbles to me as quickly as she can.

"Daddy!"

"No, I'm not daddy." Once again, I find myself smiling at the little girl.

She holds her arms up, asking me to pick her up.

_What if I'm not supposed to?_

_Pick her up. _

_No, what if I'm not supposed to?_

_Pick her up._

_I don't want to get into trouble._

_Pick her up, stupid. She's asking you to pick her up, pick her up. _

_But-_

_This is why no one likes you, you're a stubborn arrogant idiotic bastard that thinks he knows best. _

_But- _

_Bastard, pick the kid up._

"Sherlock?" John's voice shakes me from my thoughts.

"What?" I look up from Rosie to him.

"Do you need me to set her up for you?"

_See, you should have picked her up, now you're in trouble._

My eyes flick to the violin next to me.

"Dr. Watson, I do believe my brother thinks he's not allowed."

"Sherlock, Jesus, we were doing better!" John sounds frustrated.

I flinch down and my left hand rests protectively on my violin.

"Daddy?" I feel a hand on mine, I look and see Rosie standing on her tip toes trying to get up to me.

_Pick her up._

_I'm in trouble. _

_Yeah, you are._

My eyes go to the floor opposite side of the bed to her.

_I'm in trouble, I don't like being in trouble._

_Yeah, because you won't pick her up._

_I'm not an idiot, I'm not going to fall for this test._

_You are an idiot, you picked her up last night, now you're being a bastard and ignoring her._

I'm brought from my mind when a weight becomes present beside me on the bed, I glance and see Rosie.

"We need to talk, Sherlock." I feel the bed dip on the opposite side and turn to see John sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry." My eyes lock on the wall above him, I can't look him in the eye.

"No, stop, look at me." I look at the wall beside his head, still unwilling to meet his eye. "At me, Sherlock."

_Look at him... Coward._

"He's not going to look at you, Dr. Watson." Mycroft clicks his umbrella once more.

_Oh really?_

forcing myself to look at John out of spite, I find myself afraid of what I see.

**Patience.**

"Thank you."

A second later I look away, not able to hold eye contact any longer.

Screw you Mycroft.

"You did good, that's a start." John's voice is soft like... like... like my scarf. That sounds weird, but it is. "Do you want to come home with me, or do you want to go home with Mycroft and Lestrade?"

_He's asking you a question stupid, answer him._

_I don't want to upset anyone._

_Answer him, go ahead, let him know you don't want to go home with your brother and his boyfriend._

_I'm scared._

_Fucking coward, you're a disgrace. You're scared of everything. The only person who could keep you in like and keep you right is Allan, and he's dead. Everything that happened to Allan, Mycroft killing him, all of it is your fault. _

_Shut up._

**_You. Killed. Allan._**

_Stop._

_Face the truth. You killed him._

"Sherlock, it's okay to talk, please answer me."

"...you..." I can hardly hear myself.

"What was that, I'm sorry, I couldn't understand that."

"You." I repeat in a louder clearer tone, I avoid looking at anyone in the room.

"Okay, than you can go home with me."

"There are rules." Mycroft buts in with a stern and overbearing voice, it's a struggle to keep from flinching at his words.

"Mycroft, not right now." John speaks over him.

"Yes, right now." Mycroft speaks over him. "You are no longer allowed to leave without someone with you, you will wear a trackable bracelet, you will go to a psychologist whenever you have an appointment, you will eat, you will do whatever John tells you, if you break any of the rules you will be sent to a facility until you're deemed safe to leave."

"Mycroft, no, that's not how we do things." John stands up.

"It is now." Mycroft also stands.

"No, it's not."

"I'm afraid you seem to be mistaken, if you wish for Sherlock to return to 221B bakers street, he will follow all of the rules."

_It's your fault they're arguing, all your fault._

_Leave me alone._


	28. Chapter 28

Hospitals are so boring. If I wanted to die of boredom I would have asked John to tell me about work.

Why are they taking everything away from me? It's not fair, it's none of their business if I want to use drugs... it's none of their business if I want to skip eating, it's none of their business, it's none of their business!

John keeps asking me if I'm okay, I keep telling him I'm fine. Why won't he leave me alone?

Mycroft keeps asking me if I intend to keep landing myself in the hospital. My answer... we'll leave it at it was mildly inappropriate and caused me to be forced to stay in this wretched hospital longer.

The doctors told me I could go home yesterday, but they're stalling. I'm very displeased. I wish to return to my flat so that I can resume normal activities.

_What are normal activities, Sherlock?_

_Quiet._

_Cutting yourself?_

_Get out of my head._

_I'm you, Sherlock._

_Leave me alone._

_Never._

The nurses took my violin away last night, I want it back.

_"Why don't we put this somewhere safe?" The nurse, whatever her name is, took the violin from the foot of my bed._

_"No!" I gasped. "Give it back."_

_"We need to put this somewhere that it will be safe." Her voice was patient. _

_"You're having relationship difficulties." I snapped. "Your left ring finger has a tan line suggesting a ring has been recently removed, it s also red and irritated as if the skin has been worked, presumably by the ring you removed. You have a phone in your pocket, meaning you're expecting a call, given the removed ring, and the phone, it suggests you are having relationship difficulties, should I go on?" _

_"What are you?" She looked disgusted._

_"The worlds only consulting detective." I tried to take the violin from her, she just moves it further from my reach. _

_"I'm going to put this in a patient locker, you can have it back when you leave." _

_"Give it back!" I yelled at her._

_"It's not safe for it to be in here, you're on suicide watch, and I'm not sure this is a good thing to have in here." _

_"Since when am I on suicide watch?" I was frustrated. _

_"You were put on it this morning." _

_"I was told I could leave this morning!" _

_"We'll, I suppose you must have showed signs of being suicidal." With that, she left._

_"Fuck you, Mycroft." I growled under my breath. "Just fuck you." _

"Knock, knock." A voice pulls my attention.

"What?" I snarl, angry and upset still about the loss of my violin.

"Easy." The voice belongs to John. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." My arm cross over my chest, and I can't help but wish things were different.

_Different how? different in you had your violin so you wouldn't be pouting like a baby? _

_Shut up!_

"Where's you violin?" John sounds confused, but it's an act. I'm sure of it.

"Don't act so innocent, you know where it is." I can feel tears in my eyes, but I fight them back.

_Go ahead and cry like a baby, you are a baby after all._

_Leave me alone, just shut up._

_Make me._

"Sherlock... did something happen?" He sounds unsure.

"You know very well what happened, fuck _you_, fuck _Greg or whatever his name is_, and _especially_ fuck _Mycroft_!" I half scream at the blonde.

"Sherlo-... what happened?" John sits on the edge of my bed.

"Nothing." I close my eyes against the tears that are now threatening to fall.

_Baby._

_Leave me alone._

_You're such a weak baby, you cry all the time and you are a fake._

_No, I'm not a fake._

_But, you are a weak baby._

_..._

"No, tell me what happened."

Refusing to speak, I pull my knees up to my chest and bury my face in them.

_Stupid whiney baby._

_Can you please just piss off?_

_Nope._

"Sherlock."

"Go away." Taking several deep breaths, I try to keep from crying.

_I'm the worlds only consulting detective._

_Stop mocking me._

_I know you're having relationship issues because blah, blah, blah, stupid stuff that doesn't evEN MATTER! _

_Why won't you leave me alone?_

"I'm calling Mycroft, stay here." John's voice is soft, I feel his weight leave the bed, and I hear his footsteps leave the room.

_Look what you did, you chased him away. Pathetic._


	29. Chapter 29

John comes back after what feels like forever.

"Mycroft put you on suicide watch... he had a meeting today, and didn't want you released until we could be free."

"I was told I could leave yesterday."

"Yeah, I know... he's on his way to straighten things out."

"I want to go home."

"I know, we're going to go home soon."

I turn away, my back facing John.

"The nurses wouldn't give me your violin, I'm sorry." John tries to apologize, but it does not good.

"Go away." My voice is low. "Leave me alone."

"Nope, that's not going to happen."

"Go away."

"Sherlock, I'm not going anywhere... nothing has changed between us, you know that, right?"

"Yes, it has." I turn back in anger. "Nothing is the same, Allan is gone, I'm being forced to wear a tracker, Mycroft is trying to dictate my life... You're not you, it's-...it's all wrong."

"What do you mean?" John looks confused again.

"Open your eyes and observe!" _I want to knock the flowers off my table, I want to break something and use the pieces to-_

"I am observing, you're not alright." John's voice is... what is that tone? "I'm not going to leave you here alone like this. You _don't_ have to pretend to be okay, alright?"

_Tisk tisk, so tedious. He's trying to fool you into thinking he cares. You know that the only person who cared is dead._

_John... John cares._

_John? Are you sure? John H. Watson? The one who beat you us after you returned, the one who beat you after you killed his wife? The one who-_

_John cares... he did that to get his frustration out._

_Finally, you understand that that's all your good for._

_I have a mind palace._

_And a death wish._

"Sherlock?" Another voice causes me to pause my thinking, but not physically react.

I'm in a numbed state, I can hear everything around me, yet I can't feel it. This is more satisfying that being in constant pain. My eyes are closed and my fingers are steepled, giving the appearance that I'm in my mind palace.

"He went into this... daze?" John sounds worried. "I called him out on not being okay."

"Is he going to ever be okay?" The foreign voice belongs to Lestrade.

"I don't know... The nurses took his violin last night."

"What?" Lestrade sounds appalled. "Why did they do that?"

"Mycroft put Sherlock on suicide watch."

"Did he try to..."

"No, it's a long story... I'm just worried about Sherlock right now."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"No, all we can do is... hope he realizes none of this is his fault."

_**Liar**__. It is my fault._

"How is Sherlock?" Mycroft's voice enters my hearing range.

"I don't know." John sighs. "He went into this daze after I told him he wasn't okay."

"Ah, dissociation again, Sherlock?" The bed dips beside me, I presume it's Mycroft given it's his voice speaking. "Snap out of it."

"Mycroft, what are you doing?" (Lestrade.)

"Could I have triggered him somehow?" John sounds sick. "Does he have PTSD?"

"He refused to be screened for it." Mycroft answers in an irritated tone.

"The nurses took his violin." Lestrade informs his lover.

"They've been dealt with, we're checking Sherlock out of this hospital."

"This hospital?" John's voice rings with concern.

"I'm sending him to a facility."

"No, he will lose it." John snaps.

"And he already hasn't?" Mycroft snaps back. "Look at him, Dr. Watson, he's in a dissociative state."

A hand on my shoulder makes me open my eyes and look at my shoulder.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" It's John's hand.

I nod. Everything is moving so slow... it's as if I've watching everything, yet not really here.

"Can you tell me about something, anything?"

"I'm fine." The words feel odd and unreal on my tongue, as if they're not my own.

"No, you're really not."

"I'm fine."

"You're going to a facility." Mycroft speaks.

"I don't care." The last piece of self control I have breaks.

"That's not the Sherlock I know." He looks detached.

"Pity, I must be so interesting when I actually give a damn." I roll my eyes.

"You will spend at least a week in a facility, they will assess you and alert me as to when you're safe enough to return into the general population."

"No, we're not doing that." John looks shocked. "Mycroft, he will, literally, go to hell in there."

"He will get help in there." Mycroft counters. "We cannot chance him running away again."

"What about the- the- the ankle tracker?"

"We could do that, but then again... would that be helpful?"

"I am perfectly safe to return to civilization." I say through the fog that is trying to re-engulf me.

"I'm not so sure about that, brother mine."

"I'm safer than you, you would eat your way through a bakery, then sue them for running out of cake."

I hear John chuckle beside me.

"Mycroft, let him go back to Baker street." Lestrade whispers. "If it doesn't work, than we'll give the facility a shot.

All eyes are on Mycroft.

"It would seem I'm outnumbered in this decision." He folds. "You win, Sherlock will return to Baker street."

_He's not going to hold up to his agreement._

_I know._

_You're going to be sent away._

_I know._

_John will hate you,_

_I know, do you have anything I don't know?_

_It's your fault that this is even happening, so don't sass me._

_Please leave me alone._


	30. Chapter 30

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" Ever since me return to Baker Street, John and Mrs. Hudson have been checking on me non-stop. It's really been a quite infuriating two days.

"Thinking."

The nurses didn't want to return my violin when I was checked out from the hospital, Mycroft threatened to have them fired if I didn't receive my violin back instantly.

_Mycroft is such an... such a... such an arse-hole. _

_I would have gotten my violin myself, I don't need him or his 'help.'_

"About what?" I feet a presence beside me.

"Cases." I lie to John.

"What case?"

Silently, I will him to leave me alone... but I know he won't. As much as I wish he would give me five minutes of peace, I know he will refuse.  
"Sherlock, what case?" He truly is persistent.

"Quiet, John." My voice is sharp. _I've been disturbed far to many times today. If I were trying to figure out who Anderson shagged last night, Donovan, obviously, I would have taken longer than I should have._

"Sherlock, tell me."

"Why?" Forcing my eyes open, I sit up and glare at the blonde.

"Because, I'm worried about you." He crosses his arms.

"I'm perfectly fine." I snarl, tired of trying to be nice._ If I get hurt, so be it, I'm tired._

"No, you're not okay." He shakes his head, speaking in a voice one would reserve for a child. _I am __**not**__ a child._

"Of, and you would know?" Standing to my feet, I tower over my companion.

"Well, I'm a bloody doctor!" John points out.

"Oh, really? I thought you were just pretending all this time." Sarcasm slips from my lips as anger and irritation course through my veins.

"Sherlock, you are a cock." John's face twists into a scowl. "But, I am not going to let you destroy yourself."

"I'm not destroying myself!" Yelling at him, I find that it's hard to remain calm about anything right now.

"Yes, you are." His voice is quieter than mine, but still loud enough to bring Mrs. Hudson out of her flat.

About a minute until she makes it all the way to us.

"If you'll excuse me." Not waiting for a reply, I retreat to my room and close the door behind me.

_No._

My eyes go wide and my heart speeds up.

_Closing doors= __**BAD**__._

"No, no, no." Running a hand through my hair, I try to calm down enough to figure out how to remedy my tragic mistake.

_Can't you do anything right? You truly are pathetic, you're a bloody idiot._

_What do I do? What do I do?_

_You know what._

_No._

_It's what should be done. _

My eyes flicker to a certain object laying on my bed where I deemed it to be 'safer.'

I creep over to my bed and sit down, pulling the violin to rest in my arms.

Gently, I pluck the stings in thought.

_I don't want to lose it again._

_You broke the rules, and you should be punished. _

_I don't want to lose it again._

A soft knocking sound makes me jump and fall off of the bed, nearly dropping my violin.

_Idiot, look at yourself and your clumsy ass._

_At least the violin is alright._

"Sherlock?" The door opens without warning.

"I'm sorry." I cower before John. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have closed the door, please don't take it away." I clutch the violin and hold it to my chest, trying to protect it.

"Sherlock-"

"I'm sorry, me not the violin, please, me not the violin."

"Sherlock... no."

I flinch back as a hand approaches me.

"I'm sorry." The volume of my voice lowers to barely a whisper.

"Sherlock." John crouches beside me, but doesn't move to punish me.

"I'm sorry." My grip tightens on my violin and I squeeze my eyes closed. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, you don't have to be sorry." A hand is placed on my shoulder, but upon it causing me to flinch, it is removed.

"Mrs. Hudson!" John yells for our land lady.

"What's wrong?" Her voice sounds soft and close-by.

"Call Greg and Mycroft, I need some help."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Inching away from the blogger, I find myself falling deeper and deeper into this pit of fear that seems to continue growing by the second.

"Sherlock, stop." John's voice is stern. "Stop, stay still."

"I'm sorry." My back is pressed against the corner of the wall furthest from John.

"Sherlock, it's okay." John approaches slowly.

"I'm sorry." I attempt trying to retreat further into the corner, but find this is as far as I can go. "Please, don't, I won't do it again, please don't, I'm sorry."

That makes John freeze in spot.

"Sherlock..." He breaths, an odd look on his face. _What is the emotion on his face?_

"I'm sorry." My lungs feel as if they've been severely deprived of oxygen for a dangerous length of time.

John says nothing, he just backs away and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

_Look what you did._

_I'm sorry._

_Not yet, you're not._


	31. Chapter 31

_t's okay. It's okay. I'm okay. I'm okay._

It's like a bad song, it keeps circling my head. I know this is not okay. John is angry with me, I closed the door... I shouldn't have done that. I'm worried about what my punishment will be.

Please don't be the violin.

Rationally, I know that losing my violin is the only punishment that John will use... but, it doesn't mean that I have to like it.

_I must be punished to be kept in line._

_But, I don't want to lose my violin. I'd rather suffer at the hands of the Serbian's than to lose my violin again._

_Am I being unreasonable? Yes._

_Am I scared? I refuse to admit that._

_Am I worried? Yes._

_Am I going to fight against John when he comes back to punish me? No._

Slowly, my heart rate reduces to normal speed.

_Am I going to leave this spot? No._

_Am I going to beg for forgiveness again? No._

_Do I deserve whatever John has planned? Yes._

_John left so sudden... what if he's never coming back? What if my punishment is being left alone forever?_

_I'd like to believe that John wouldn't do that... but I know that he will if he thinks it's the proper punishment._

_Should I go find him and give him my violin? Probably.. yes, I should._

_Am I going to go and find him? Maybe... no, I'm really not._

A soft knock makes me jump, causing me to press myself back into the corner once more, heart rate having once more increased.

"Sherlock?" The door opens and I see John standing there.

"I'm sorry." I can't meet his gaze. Wordlessly, I hold the violin out and struggle not to cry.

"What are you doing?"

_There are rules. No speaking, you screwed that one already, but maybe you should at least try to obey the rules._

"Answer him." Mycroft's unexpected voice causes me to flinch and close my eyes tightly.

"I'm sorry." I mouth the words, not making any sound.

"What happened?" Lestrade joins the mix of men at my door.

"He closed the door." John explains quietly.

"... And?" Lestrade sounds like he's waiting for something.

"Rules, Gregory." Mycroft's voice is still very sharp.

"I wish I could kill that bloody cock." Lestrade's voice rings with anger.

"I'm sorry." I mouth again, not opening my eyes.

"Sherlock, mate, open your eyes." John's voice is gentle, it worries me more than if it were cold and frighteningly aggressive. "It's okay, just open your eyes."

Taking several deep breaths, I force myself to open my eyes. Instantly, my eyes lock with John's. He's about two feet away from me, sitting on the floor.

"Good, good." He seems... relieved? _No, that can't be right. What is this look?_

The weight of my violin makes me feel sad, I know I have to do what's right. I hold the violin out further and lay it in front of John.

"What are you doing?" John's question makes me want to cry.

_Punishment._

"It's okay to talk, what are you doing?" He urges.

"... Punishment..." My voice is hardly audible to me, but I know John heard me because his expression changed... but I still don't understand why he looks upset. "Please don't burn it."

Did I miss something?

Did he have a different punishment in mind?

"No, no, Sherlock, you're not going to be punished." His voice sounds... hurt?

"I'm sorry."_ Hurt = I did something wrong = punishment._

"John, let me talk to him." Lestrade offers.

"Alright." John gets off the floor and retreats to the doorway, Lestade takes his place on the floor.

"Look at me, Sherlock." His voice is patient._ Patient = ... trick?_

"Look at him." Mycroft orders me.

Instantly, I look up to Lestrade, only to shift my gaze to the wall beside him.

"That'll... work..."

"I'm sorry." _Disappointment = I did something wrong._

"No, you don't have to be sorry." He rushes. "You're fine, you didn't do anything wrong."

_Lies._

"Sherlock, why are you scared?" He tries. "It's okay to answer."

A quick glance at John lets me know I'm allowed to talk.

"It's okay, Sherlock." John nods.

"I closed the door." My gaze moves to the violin on the floor in front of me.

"The rules changed, remember?" Lestrade reminds gently.

"I broke the rules." _Allan taught me the rules, I broke them. I'm in trouble._

"No, you didn't." John rejoins our tiny group, sitting next to me, but not so close we touch.

"I'm sorry." Attempting to move further into the wall, I find I'm unable to, which causes me to panic slightly.

"It's okay." He doesn't touch me, but his tone is soothing. "You're not in trouble."

"I'm sorry." _Soothing tone = False comfort and safety._

"What happened?"

"I broke the rules."

"No, what happened?" John furrows his brows.

"I broke the rules... I deserve to be punished." I can't help but feel like this is going to be the worst punishment ever.

"John... what happened before you called us?" Lestrade stands up, rubbing his knees as if they're hurting slightly.

"We were arguing, Sherlock was zoned out in a daze, I asked what was going on... we argued." John acts like he cares and feels guilty. _Why would he?_

_Care, or feel guilty?_

_Stop._

_He doesn't care, he hates you, you broke the rules._

_Please, stop._

_He doesn't feel guilty, you are the one who is guilty._

"Sherlock." Mycroft's voice cuts through the fog of my mind. "Why must you be so-"

"Mycroft, no." John snaps. "We don't- oh, god." His face goes pale.

"John, what's wrong?" Lestrade is instantly worried, as am I.

"I... I triggered him." John stands up and moves back to the doorway, leaving me completely alone in the corner.

"How?" Lestrade questions, Mycroft is remaining silent, but I can't help but notice the irritation in his stance.

"When we were arguing, I called him a... I..." John's face is ashen, and he looks sick. "I called him a _cock_."

"And you believe you triggered my brother?" Mycroft clicks his cane twice, irritation showing even more in his body language.

"I must have... it makes sense."

"Sherlock, your goldfish is being stupid, again." Mycroft scoffs, clicking his cane again.

"John, you didn't... I'm fine." Pulling my knees closer to my chest, I burry my face in them.

"No, no, you're not." John's voice cracks slightly.

"What do we do?" Lestrade whispers to his lover, Mycroft.

"Nothing, Sherlock will have to open up himself before we can do anything."

"Alright, then, thank you for trying to help, you guys can go... I've got him." What is that in John's voice? He sounds... unsure? _No, that can't be... Perhaps, he sounds concerned, no, no, no. That makes even less sense. Anger? No. What is this?_

_He's upset, dufus._

_Ah, I was wondering when you were going to show up, Moritarty._

_He's upset because you let this happen, you didn't protect Allan. John knows how weak you are._

_I'm not weak._

_Look at yourself, you couldn't even tell John the truth._

_I haven't lied to him._

_Serbia._

I physically flinch at the word, even though it was only in my mind.

_You decided to take my network down? Pathetic, you know that my network will never die._

_I dismanteled your network._

_You really think that? You're stupider than I thought._

"Sherlock, mate, I don't know if you can hear me..." John's voice draws me from my thoughts. "Um... Mycroft and Lestrade left a while ago, you... I know you're not okay. But, I also know that you... Sherlock, I'm sorry." His voice completely breaks off into what I could almost swear is a sob.

_Why are you sorry, John?_

"I know that you're in a daze, I don't know when you'll come out... but, I swear, I swear on my life that I won't cause this again, I'm so sorry."

_No, you don't have to be sorry, John. I'm the one who's sorry._

"I, umm... I made you some tea?" His statement comes off more like a question. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, John." Finally, I bring myself to speak aloud.

"Sher-, thank god." _That is definitely relief, but why? I'm troublesome._

"I'm sorry I scared you." My voice sounds far to calm to me.

"It's okay, you don't have to be sorry, you're perfect."

"I think it would be beneficial if we were to have a written copy of the rules on hand."

"What?"

"Lestrade didn't remember the rules, he didn't understand that I broke them."

"... Sherlock..."

"Yes, John?"

"You're an idiot." He chuckles lightly.

I furrow my brows in confusion. I understand that this is a joke, but why is he joking with me?

"I don't understand." Are the first words to come from my mouth, without my consent none the less.

"What do you not understand?" He is sitting in front of me, only a few inches away.

"We need the rules, why are you joking about them?"

"Okay, I won't joke about rules." John nods solemnly. "We'll work together and write the rules down if that'll make you feel better."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"John... can I ask a question?"

_Don't ask him you fool._

"Of course, you can ask my anything."

_Don't ask._

"Umm..." My gaze shifts from him to the wall behind him. "Can I have something to drink?"

_Good, don't you ever dare ask him the other question._

"Yeah, let's go make you a cuppa that isn't cold."

"How are you two doing?" Mrs. Hudson walks into John's-... no, our flat.

_Idiot. It's John's flat, you own nothing._

"Wonderfully." John smiles. "How's Rosie, not to difficult?"

"She's fine." She waves John off. "How are you feeling, Sherlock?"

"Very well, Mrs. Hudson." Sipping my tea, I feel more relaxed than earlier. "Do we have any biscuits?"

"No, sorry, love." She apologizes. "We ran out this morning."

"Oh, pity."

"Do you think you two will be off solving murders soon?" She seems slightly anxious.

"What brings you here, Mrs. Hudson?" My mind is working in a direction, I do hope I'm wrong.

Her face flushes slightly. "Well, I was wondering if-"

"Drop Rosie off at five." A smirk spreads across my face as I realize I'm right.

_You're not cleaver, you're ordinary._

"Sherlock." A hand taps my arm.

"Hmm?" Looking around, I see John's hand on my arm.

"What happened?" He's whispering, Mrs. Hudson is no where in sight.

"I, um..." My brain freezes up, no words seem to be in my mind.

"I'm not mad, just tell me why you went into your daze... thing..."

"Mrs. Hudson is meeting her boyfriend, she wanted to make sure we could handle Rosie."

"We?" John looks pleasantly surprised.

"I... I can watch her if you have plans."

"No, I don't have plans." His eyes have tears.

"John, what's wrong?" Panic sets in when I realize I said something wrong.

"Sherlock, I'm so proud of you." He wipes his eyes and smiles brightly.

"John... what did I do, did I say something wrong?"

"Nothing, Sherlock, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why are you doing that?" I gesture at the tears he is still wiping.

"Sometimes you're really happy, so you cry." He chuckles.

"Why are you happy?" I'm so confused.

"It's... you said we."

"What?"

"Never mind, Sherlock." He keeps smiling.

"Okay." Looking back to my tea, I can't help but keep glancing at John.

_What made him so happy?_

_Not you._

_Must you bother me right now?_

"John-" _Do __**NOT**__ ask him._

"Yeah?"

"Can... can we, maybe, um..."

_**DON'T ASK HIM.**_

"Could we what, Sherlock?"

"Can we go see Eurus?"

**_I TOLD YOU NOT TO ASK HIM._**

"I don't know." He looks hesitant. "Maybe in a few weeks, I want to make sure that you're fully recovered from your stay in the hospital."

"Alright." I nod. That seems reasonable enough.

"So... fancy a little telly?"

"Okay, sure."

_"Wake up, don't make me call you again." Allan's voice startles me from sleep._

_"Allan?" My stomach is churning; I feel so sick._

_"Why is this house a mess?"_

_"What?" Forcing myself out of bed, I leave the comfort of our room to find my boyfriend._

_I find him in the kitchen, scowling at a sink full of dishes._

_"What's wrong, Allan?" My eyes are blurry, and my head is pounding. This is worse than the aftermath of 'stag night.'_

_"I slave at work all day and this is what I get?" He points to the dishes. "Are you stupid, or did you forget I'm the one supplying your food and shelter?"_

_"I'm sorry." The room is spinning, and I'm so cold._

_"You didn't even cook anything!" He doesn't calm down. "I slave away day after day for you, and you do nothing!"_

_"I know, you're right."_

_"Am I the only person who does anything?" He turns the water on and starts slamming the dishes down on the counter agressivly._

_"Don't, I'll take care of it." Cautiously, I step to the sink next to him._

_"Stop it." He shoves me away and starts washing the dishes. "Don't go pretending you care now that I'm doing it, go do whatever the fuck you normally do."_

_"Allan, I'm sorry." Confusion overwhelmes me. "Please, let me do something."_

_"You should've thought about my feelings before you layed in bed doing nothing all day."_

_"What, all day?!" I'm shocked._

_"Don't even." Allan throws the sponge down that he was washing dishes with. "It's five, and I'm so sick of coming home to find you lazing around and living it up while you force _

_me to do everything."_

_"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize I was..."_

_"Why do I even bother?" His eyes flash with anger. "I should just leave and let you know what it's like to do things for yourself, I swear, you're more dependent than a _

_toddler."_

_"No, please don't go." My heart breaks. "I'm sorry, this will never happen again, I promise, please don't leave."_

_"Fine, I'll stay, but there are no second chances."_

_"Thank you, thank you." Relief rushes over as I release a sigh._

_"Get busy." Allan growls threateningly. "This place better be clean when I get back, and you better have some dinner waiting on me."_

_"I will, I promise food will be ready and I'll clean the place."_

_"One hour." He leaves, slamming the front door behind him._

This is okay... I'm okay.

_Of course... I ignore the fact that I'm now heaving over a trashcan and feeling like I'm dying._

_"John." I groan, wishing for him for some unknown reason._

John always makes everything better.

_"John."_

"Wake up." A hand shakes my shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" I jump awake and roll of the bed, opposite side of where the hand came from. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

"No, shh, it's okay, shh." John's voice soothes me. _Wait, John?!_

"John?" Peaking over the bed, I see his sitting on the edge of it.

"Yeah, it's okay, Sherlock." He's wearing pajamas, and he looks as if he just woke up.

"Did I wake you?" Now I'm worried.

"It's okay, you were having a bad dream."

"I'm sorry." My gaze falls to the floor. "I'm sorry, it was not my intention to wake you."

"You don't have to be sorry, Sherlock."

"You should go back to bed." Slowly, and deliberately, I get off the floor, watching for any signs that I'm doing something wrong.

"No, I'm not tired."

"You're obviously tired."

"Maybe a little, but I'd rather sit up with you."

"I'm going back to bed." _Yes, it's a lie._

"Really?" He doesn't look convinced.

"Yes."

"Sherlock, we don't lie to each other, okay?"

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"I know, it's alright."

_He's angry._

_I know._

_You're going to lose your violin, and he's going to hurt you._

_... I know._

_He's going to send you away, you're to much trouble. You're never going to prove yourself to him, he will never want you to stay here._

"What's wrong?" John touches my shoulder.

"Sorry, I was... thinking." _Not exactly a lie..._

"About what?" he seems genuinely curious.

_Trick. It has to be a trick._

"Um... cases."

"What case?"

_Haven't you two done this before? Right before you shut a door and broke the rules._

"Sherlock, you told me that your brain is like a hard drive, right?'

"Yes..." Where is he going with this.

"Well... I've been thinking, we both know you're not okay."

"But-"

"Wait, let me finish." He holds a hand up.

"Okay." I nod.

"Well, how do computers work?" He pauses.

"...?" _Should I answer?_

"You know how they work, what am I saying?" He chuckles, looking slightly lost for words. "You know what happens when a computer gets a virus, right?"

"Yes." Once again, I nod.

"Well, your brain, it's like a hard drive... and right now you have a virus, we can take care of the virus, but we have to work together."

"A virus?" It seems to click. _My inability to follow the rules is a virus._

"Yeah, a virus, so... what does this mean?"

"Mmm." I close my eyes and try to think of a simple way to put this. "A virus has attacked my hard drive."

"Great, excellent, that's a good start, what kind of virus?"

"One that causes the processing system to lag and causes the server to crash."

"... yeah..." He looks confused.

"I can't follow rules because I have a virus."

"What- no!" John is shocked. "No, I didn't mean- no."

"No?" My shoulders slump.

"No... um... why don't we get a cuppa and talk this over?"

"Alright..."


	32. Chapter 32

"Here." John hands me a cup of tea.

I don't thank him, I just stare at the tea. Unsure of myself and the tea.

"Okay, um... Sherlock, you do very well following rules... but you don't need to follow the rules."

"But, rules are important."

"Yes, but not all of them."

"Allan said-"

"Sherlock." John's voice has a sharp edge to it, which instantly silences me.

_You made him angry. You're going to be punished, you messed up soooo bad. He's going to hurt you, and you deserve it, you're-_

"Sherlock?" John's voice is softer now, causing me to look back up at him, there is worry evident in my eyes, I'm sure.

"Yes, John?"

"I'm not mad, I just want you to get better."

"I'm not sick." My brows furrow.

"No, I suppose you're not." He stands up and paces the floor a bit.

"John-" I'm cut of by the sound of Rosie crying.

"I'll be right back." John takes off to get Rosie.

_Can't you do anything right?_

_Yes._

_What can you do right?_

_...cases._

_You haven't solves a case for a long time, you can't do it anymore. You aren't clever, you're stupid._

_I know._

_Then why are you still talking?_

_Because I need to._

_Need?_

_..._

_Need, or want?_

_Need... I need to._

_Wrong, dead wrong._

"Look who's here, Rosie." John points to me, Rosie in his arms.

"Daddy?" She rubs her eyes.

"No, I'm not daddy." I can't help but smile at the young girl.

"Here, why don't you sit with Sherlock?" He sets her in my arms.

_Don't screw this up, Sherlock._

"Hello, Rosie." My shoulders tense. "Why are you awake at this hour?"

"She probably had a nightmare." John sits in his chair across from me.

"Did you have a bad dream, love?" I coo at her, noting that this is not my normal behavior.

John raises an eyebrow, I instantly stop and stiffen more.

_I told you not to mess up._

We, John, Rosie, and myself, sit in silence. There are no words to be said, I don't know how to fix this. I'm concerned that I've already ruined the chances of recovering our friendship. John hates me, I'm just worried he's going to leave. If only I could do what I'm supposed to.

Rose yawns and rubs he eyes more.

"Perhaps she should go back to bed." Whispering, I glance at John.

"Alright, we all should go back to bed." John nods tiredly.

_See, you did mess up._

"Here, go to daddy." Pointing to John, I set Rosie of the ground.

She quickly walks to him and holds her arms out, asking to be picked up.

He picks her up and quickly takes her back to put her in bed.

"Good night, John." I say after him, then I retreat back to my room.

_Look what you did, you make John mad when you were talking to Rosie._

_How do I fix this?_

_You don't, you just have to follow the rules until John realizes how pathetic you are and leaves._

My eyes trail over to the door, it's partially open.

_Maybe you should close it, show John you still can't follow the rules._

The faint sound of John telling Rosie a story makes me smile slightly.

I'm so tired... but sleep isn't what I need, it would seem I'm unsure what I need.

_Punishment, idiot._

I just want to... what do I want?

_I'm so tired._

Turns out, Rosie slept the rest of the night, John dropped her off at Molly's this morning so he could go shopping.

I discovered what I needed. A distraction. Seeing as how I can' leave the flat alone, I couldn't purchase cigarettes or any drugs, so I decided to return to an old habit.

_Am I telling John? No._

_Am I fine? Yes._

_Do I wish everyone would leave me alone? ... I'm not sure, but I don't want people telling me what to do._

Things are tense, well, that is an understatement.

Mycroft is currently sitting in John's chair. We're having a battle of the wills. Mycroft wants me to go to a phycologist, I don't want to go.

John is still out shopping, I do hope he returns soon. Lestrade... I don't know where he is.

"You are going." Mycroft keeps trying to dictate my life. It is not welcome.

"No." My teeth are gritted. _I hate this._

"Don't make me drag you there."

"You couldn't move me if you tried, you've put on more weight again anyway."

"You're self harming again." He fires back.

"Who told you such an atrocious lie?" I scoff, knowing that he's speaking the truth.

"Don't make me call Dr. Watson." He growls.

"Leave." I snap, finally having had enough of Mycroft bothering me.

"You have an appointment tommorrow at noon, I'll send a car to pick you up." He stands, still glaring daggers at me.

"Oh, I don't care, goodbye." Rolling my eyes, I steeple my fingers and go to my mind palace.

It should be calming in here, but it's not.

Everything looks darker than it should, the walls are closing in on me.

_This isn't right._

Quickly, I exit my mind palace and take several deep breaths.

A loud growl escapes me as I internally scream.

_I can't even go to my mind palace._

Anger wells up inside of me.

I scream in anger. I can't do anything.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?" Mrs. Hudson's voice echoes from behind me.

"I'm fine, don't you have something to be doing." _Yes, I'm aware that I'm breaking the rules._

"No, love-"

"Goodbye." Rising from my chair, I close the flats door and lock it.

_Perhaps you should do something about your feelings._

The thought of drawing a blade over my skin makes me angrier and calms simultaneously.

_Why not?_


	33. Chapter 33

**221B Baker Street**

"Sherlock, unlock the door." John's voice is muffled, but I can hear him.

_Do I want to unlock the door for him? No._

_Am I going to? Yes._

Slowly I rise from the edge of my bed where I was seconds ago sitting.

"Sherlock?" John continues requesting me to let him in.

Heaviness drags at my limbs as I finally reach the door.

"Sherlock, are you in there?"

Wordlessly, I unlock he door and let the shorter man inside.

"About bloody time." He steps inside, and quickly looks me over. "Why was the door locked?"

"Mycroft." I leave the door and flop down on the couch, not having the energy to bother with a better explanation.

John is watching me, I'm aware of that, but I really don't care.

_While I did take care of my feelings, I unfortunately caused more damage than I should have. Not enough to need stitches, no... but it is enough to keep me from being able to reattempt feeling control for some time. At least a week, it ordinarily takes a week for a shallow cut to heal completely if aided by ointments and bandages, but this could take a bit longer, perhaps two weeks, with the assistance of the ointments and bandages, of course._

"What did he have to say?"

"Nothing interesting, as usual." My words earn a quiet chuckle from John, which causes my lips to pull into a small smile by default.

"What have you been doing today?" John continues talking to me as he places the groceries in their proper place, still glancing in my direction every so often, as if to be sure I'm still where he last saw me.

"Thinking."

"About what?"

"Cases."

"What case?" John hesitates a second, his voice no longer seems as relaxed, it's more... on edge? _No... why can't I seem to identify his audible emotions accurately anymore?_

I take a deep breath. "_Study in pink_, if I remember your name for it correctly." _Yes, I remember the name correctly. I always remember the names. John may think I ignore his little blog, however, I do not. I must keep tabs on making sure he keeps the facts straight._

_So far, he has done a remarkable job, although, I will never admit that to him. While he does keep the facts correct, he romanticizes our adventures a bit to much at times._

"Yeah, that's the name." He sighs, almost as if in relief. _Odd, very odd, indeed._

"Does Lestrade have any cases?"

"Yes, but not until you're up for it."

"Let's go." Without another word, I leave my spot on the couch to get my coat.

_Let's go solve a case._

**Scotland Yard**

"Cases." The door to Lestrade's office swings open as I enter.

"Sherlock." He seems surprised to see me.

"Cases." My patience wears thin, I haven't solved a case for far to long... One might even say I've come to miss it a great deal.

"Are you sure you're-"

"John," I call for my companion to rescue me from needless 'red tape' and get me a goddamn case. "please tell Gerard that I'm in perfect health, and am capable of solving cases."

_"Greg,_ it's Greg... and, What he said, please Lestrade, he's practically walking up the walls."

"Is he clean?"

"Sherlock." A woman's voice surprises me slightly, yet not enough to trigger a severe reaction.

"Donovan." My voice isn't sharp, neither is it fond. I regard her with little interest. _It is a pointless waste of brain work to use it on finding clever ways to describe a plain woman who has yet to make anything spectacular out of herself, other than being a police woman, she is a common follower, as are nearly all 'goldfish.'_

"How are you?" Donovan's voice is soft, causing me to bristle.

"Better than you, it would seem that your affair with Anderson had been put to a stop." My gaze flickers over her, searching for any other obvious 'pressure points' to use against her, I will not have _anyone _treating me differently than they've always treated me.

Hurt flashes through her eyes, but she bites her tongue.

"Is he?" Lestrade crosses his arms, not pleased with my deductions.

"Is who what?" Donovan decides to join our conversation. This causes a bit of unwanted anger to rise up in me.

_I'm not here to play nice, I will get a case if I have to bribe the criminal underworld to get one!_

"Don't you have work, Donovan?" My voice is sharp. _No, I still don't like it when people treat me differently than they always have, it's infuriating, and only making me even more irritated. _"Case's, Lestrade."

"Not until you answer my bloody question." Lestrade fires back.

"Is who what?" Donovan doesn't drop her insistent questioning.

"He was asking is Sherlock is clean." John tries to sooth everything over, just like he always does. "Calm down, everyone."

"Clean?" She raises an eyebrow and looks back to me from John. "Are you using drugs again?"

"No, I'm here to solve a case and avoid needing alternate stimulation." _The thought of drugs isn't repulsive, in fact, it's quite appealing, a little to appealing._

"We still have the serial killer case." Lestrade sighs, having given up trying to be rid of me.

"Already solved it." _Suicides, specifically a suicide pact, not homicide. Dull._

"Another bank robbery was committed yesterday..."

"Solved it." _Teller did it._

"Cold cases?"

"I need a crime scene, I need to see the scene." _Why is this so difficult?!_

"Sherlock, there aren't any new crimes today."

A low growl emanates from my throat as I turn to leave out the very door whence I came.

"No." John grabs my arm. "You are not leaving without me."

"Let go." My pulse quickens, I'm unnerved, and I'm actually a bit scared. "John, let go."

Instantly, John lets go, a look of concern on his face.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry... did I scare you?"

"Really, now, John?" From embarrassment, I roll my eyes and attempt to shrug off this humiliating encounter. "No, I don't like physical contact unless it's necessary."

"But-"

"Come along, I need to talk to my network." With that, I leave Lestrade's office.

Before I can reach the door, I, quite literally, run into Anderson and Mycroft.

"Sherlock." Anderson is surprised and uncomfortable. "I didn't know you and a brother until now."

"..." I don't say a word, unsure of the impact it will have with my brother present.

"John." I'm forced to stand here glaring at this halfwit nincompoop I call my brother, the only thing I can do is call my blogger to free me from another degrading encounter with this treacherous bastard.

"On my way, Sh- Mycroft..." John, who stops behind me, I know this because he still limps slightly when under stress, seems as uncomfortable as Anderson.

"I need to have a word with Dr. Watson, alone." Mycroft's gaze doesn't waver, he continues staring coolly at me.

"Alright... um... Anderson, can you take Sherlock to Angelo's restaurant?" John steps between Mycroft and myself, subconsciously acting as a referee.

"Sure." Anderson nods, glancing at me with apprehension.

"Why Angelo's?" _This is inconvenient, this is less than fortunate... this is going to be hell._

"Because we both need to eat, and we're going to eat before we go meet the homeless network." John narrows his gaze at me.

"Fine." _This doesn't mean I need to like this._

"Run along, brother mine." Mycroft instructs.

_Now I'm livid, how Mycroft always has this effect on me I'm not sure._

"Alright, come on, Sherlock." Anderson hesitates to rest a hand on my shoulder, luckily he decides against it.

_That may have cost him more than a hand given my current 'mood.'_

"Go on, Sherlock, I'll be there soon." John gives me an encouraging look.

_Rules, you have to do whatever he says._

_But Mycroft is being-_

_John, you're obeying John, not Mycroft._

_John?_

_Obey John._

I nod slightly, then follow Anderson to a patrol car.

**Patrol car, on route to Angel's restaurant (I'm unable to remember the restaurant's name)**

"How are you, Sherlock?" Anderson's voice is calm, calmer than it was when he listened to how I faked my death

"You ended things with Donovan." Yes, I'm using my only weapon against him: My brain.

"... We decided together to end things."

"She found a better suited partner."

"Not true." His voice raises slightly in hurt.

"Really?" _No, it's not true... but I'm __**not**__ going to talk about my feelings_. "Hmm, I could have sworn-"

"It's over, leave it alone." He glances at me with a warning look. Instantly, I shrink down.

Several seconds of silence pass before Anderson reattempts to make conversation. "Why didn't you ever tell us about your brother?"

"Why didn't you tell your wife about your mistress?" Answer: _Because you didn't want her to know._

Anderson sighs deeply, and drops the conversation.

_Idiot._

_What did I do now?_

_You hurt his feelings, John instructed him to watch you. You're supposed to obey him as you would John._

_What, no!_

_Yes._

_No._

_Yes._

_NO._

_YES!_

"Sherlock, what happened to you?" Anderson's question catches me off guard.

"What?" It would seem I'm far to shocked by his question to fully register the disgust I'm feeling over asking him to repeat himself.

"You've changed... since you came back from the dead, what were you doing in those two years?"

I look to the man, unsure of where this is going.

"I mean, you're different, what happened- like, when you came back you were different, and now you're more different."

"I'm the same as I always have been." _Here we go again, specialized treatment and stupid games of, 'I'm pretending to care because you're a fucking cry baby.'_

"Then, why do you flinch whenever anyone so much as touches you?"

"It's none of your concern." I sharpen my tone, trying to make him leave me alone.

"We visited you." His words confuse me.

"What?"

"Your grave... we, Donavan and I, we visited you..."

"..." _This is unexpected._

"We-... I... I felt guilty, I knew that I helped push you to your death, and I just... I never want that to happen again."

"Why?" My mouth is dry, and I'm unable to finish my question. Even if I could, which one would I ask? _Why are you telling me this? Why do you pretend to care? Why are you saying such lies? _

_What is this emotion I'm feeling, now? Remorse? Guilt? Anger?_

"Why I don't want that to happen again?" Anderson's voice rings with more than guilt now, there is a slight edge of shock.

Silence is his answer, we can go with that one, yeah.

"Because, you weren't the only one who died that day, it killed John... it killed Lestrade, Donovan, Molly, and your landlady... Sherlock, it killed me.

"When I looked back, I didn't see your suicide, I saw a death I caused... I saw what I pushed you to do, and when I realized you were alive, I had to make sure that that never happened again."

"Why are you telling me this?" My voice should be sharper than it is, but I can't control that when all I notice is the shake in my voice at the end of my question.

"I don't think that John knows, but... that day we found out about... you know... I saw the scars, Sherlock."

_No, the scars from Serbia were mostly on my back, they're not visible enough unless he was behind-_

"I know that you used to cut."

_What?!_

"What are you on about?" A snarl makes it's way out, out of defense, I assume.

_If he's so wrong, why can't you look at him?_

_Because... my eyes hurt._

_Oh, then why aren't you denying it?_

_... Because, he won't believe me._

_Because it's the truth?_

_Shut up._

"I saw the scars on your wrists, look, I know that those years must have been hard, but I can't have you die again because of me."

"Who says I am?" _Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone._

"You just lost your boyfriend who abused you, and you can't handle anyone touching you."

"Who says I did in the first place?"

"Did you?"

"_Shut up_."

"Sherlock, listen to me." His attitude comes back slightly, easing me oddly enough. "I didn't say anything to John, and I won't, as long as I know you're not hurting yourself... if I think you are, I'll tell John."

"Stop interfering with my life, you're worse than Mycroft." Betrayed floods my system as I quietly seethe in anger over the fact that Anderson has obviously been paid off by Mycroft. Why this bothers me, I'm not sure... but I'm feeling betrayed.

"Please, let me help you." Anderson begs, pulling into Angelo's. "Do you not see that you mean more to John than you think?"

"I'm perfectly capable of helping myself."

"What happened in those two years?" He asks again, returning to one of the original topics.

"I dismantled Moriarty's network, I was captured, Mycroft infiltrated the Serbian cells and freed me, end of story."

"What happened when you were captured?" His gaze doesn't waver as he makes eye contact with me.

"I was captured, there's nothing to tell." Of course, I chose to ignore the way my left hand is shaking at this moment, and the way I'm starting to smell my cell in Serbia. If I were to listen close enough, I'm sure I could hear the screams of other prisoners around me.

"Sherlock." Anderson's hand touches my shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, I'm fine." Shaking his hand off, I grit my teeth and try to ground myself before _something_ happens..

"What happened?"

"Nothing." I open the door and get out of the car, slamming the door behind me.

"I'm going to wait with you until John gets here." Anderson leaves the vehicle, a determined look on his face.

_Oh joy, another mindless minion of Mycroft. How much did he pay Anderson to pretend he cares?_

"Fine." Without giving Anderson a second thought, I go inside Angelo's and quickly get a table. _Of course, I tell Angelo that my 'date' will be here soon. It's the only way I can get _

_him to stop telling me about 'attractive' people he meets. No, I did not say I'm in love with John, and no, I sure as hell am not saying Anderson is my date. I explained to Angelo that Anderson is a client. _

_Angelo never asks another question about it, amusingly enough._


	34. Chapter 34

"John's here." Anderson breaths a sigh of relief at the appearance of my blonde companion.

"How are you two getting on?" John smiles at the sour expression on my face.

"I'm ready to go talk to the homeless network."

"Not until you eat." He sits down next to me. "You can go, Anderson, I've got him."

"Alright, be safe, Sherlock." Anderson spares me a soft glance before leaving.

_Why do people keep doing that?_

"We need to talk." John moves across from me to where Anderson was sitting. "Mycroft said you're losing weight."

_Oh?_

"I understand that you're still adjusting to everything, but you need to eat and take care of yourself."

_So... Mycroft didn't tell him..._

"What can I get you two?" Angelo comes up to the table now that John is here.

John tells him to bring us something, but I'm not sure what... I'm to busy thinking about what Mycroft did.

_He didn't tell John... or does he think I'm starving myself as a form of self-harm? The latter seems more likely. I've been careful to keep the cuts hidden, perhaps I've fooled even him._

"Sherlock?" John clears his throat.

"Gavin- Greg?" I correct myself, glancing at John to be sure. "Said there aren't any cases... so why has he been working overtime?"

"What?"

"His clothes, they were wrinkled... and he hadn't called Mycroft, that's why Anderson was bringing him in."

"Sherlock, what are you getting at?" John is genuinely confused.

"Lestrade is avoiding going home to Mycroft."

"..."

"John, don't you see?"

"No, I don't... what is it?"

"How long have they been together?"

"Not sure, why?'

"What if it's their anniversary?" I'm getting excited. "What if- why are you looking at me like that?"

"Sherlock, what?" He shakes his head. "Why would he be avoiding things if it's their anniversary?"

"He missed it."

"Oh." Finally, he understands. "Why does this matter?"

"There was a bulge in Lestrade's-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." John holds a hand up. "We're not going there."

"Going where?" Now I'm the one uncertain.

"Greg is not cheating."

"I never said he was..."

"Than what bulge- never mind... just... no, we're not going there."

"What are you- oh... you thought I meant-"

"Leave it alone."

"Alright."

"No, where were you going?" Something changes in John's expression, there's a pained look.

"Did I upset you, John?"

"What- no, no... just tell me were you were going with the... bulge..."

"There was a bulge in his coat pocket... he missed their anniversary because..." Quickly, I take my phone out and check my calendar. "..."

"Because, why?"

"Because he was with me." I'm upset with myself now. "He was going to propose last night... but he was with me."

"He was going to... are you sure?" He now sounds pained.

"He and Mycroft came over because I was being... uncooperative, and he didn't get to propose on their anniversary."

"Oh hell." John wipes a hand down is face.

"It would seem I've cost Lestrade his golden opportunity... just like I cost you yours..." I look away from John.

"We're not doing that." He reaches and takes hold of my hand, I stiffen slightly and wait for the impending pain... but nothing comes.

When I glance up to John he looks sad.

"I'm sorry." My voice is barely audible to my ears.

"Listen to me." He lifts his other hand towards my face, I flinch squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

What happens shocks me, his touch isn't harsh, he just gently cups my cheek.

"I'm sorry." My eyes open slowly to see tears in his eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing."

"But, John, I-" The words stop when I remember how stupid I am.

"Sherlock, please." His voice breaks. "Stop beating yourself up, nothing that happened was your fault, you did what you had to, and no one has the right to be angry with you over that."

No words, no clever sayings come to mind. My instincts tell me that I should be running, that I need to get away before he realizes what I am and hurts me... but I'm frozen in place, time stands still and I feel... I feel... _Confused._

John drops his hand from my face, and retracts his hand from mine.

"You'll be okay." He whispers. "We're going to be alright."

I nod, hoping and praying that he's right.

Clearing my throat, I file away our conversation for later. "How did your conversation with Mycroft go, aside from... that."

"It went alright, he was a bit of a pain in the arse." This causes both of us to laugh before returning to silence.

W_hat if he's right? What if John is right... what if things will be alright?_


	35. Chapter 35

We return to the flat after dinner, I'm, surprisingly, to exhausted for talking to my network.

"I'm going to get Rosie, will you be alright?" John hesitates at the door.

"Go get Rosie, I'm sure she would love some pie that Mrs. Hudson left while we were gone."

"Okay- what?"

"Mrs. Hudson left a pie, it's on the table."

"Oh... alright... I'll make sure to... thank her." John seems confused, but leaves the flat.

_Did I miss something?_

My attention is drawn to a small sound coming from my room before I can dwell in my mind any longer.

_What could that be?_

_It sounds like the creaking of floor boards, but I know better. John and- I... I am the only one in this flat at this moment._

Despite my thought that I am indeed the sole occupant at this exact moment, I decide it would be best to make absolutely sure that I'm alone here.

Inching my way to my room, the door seems to keep getting farther rather than closer. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm actually nervous._ What would I do if I were to find someone here? I couldn't call for help, Mrs. Hudson isn't home-_

_Mrs. Hudson isn't home._

_Oh god, who left the pie? Mrs. Hudson didn't leave it. Who is in my flat?_

Quickly, I swing the door open and come face to face with Mycroft.

"Hello, Brother Mine."

"What are you doing here?"

"I knew John would leave to get Rosie, we needed time to talk."

"What do you want?"

"I didn't tell Dr. Watson about the nature of your nightmares, or about the fact that you're dealing with post traumatic stress disorder." Mycroft closes the door behind me.

"I'm not, now leave."

"Stop hurting yourself, do you not understand that it hurts all of us?"

"You excluded."

"I included."

"Leave."

"You need help, brother mine." Mycroft doesn't listen. "I'm prepared to send you to a facility involuntarily if I must."

"Like Eurus?"

"Leave her out of this." He narrows his gaze.

"I have the right to say anything I want!"

"Do you now?" His lip twitches. "Of everything that happened, I thought that maybe you would learn that you shouldn't say what shouldn't be said."

"Do you really think I care what you think about what I do?"

"You should, I'm only doing what's best for you."

"Always taking care of little brother, aren't you so noble." Mocking him, I attempt to get a rise. "Why don't you get the hell out of here and leave me alone?!"

"What would John think if he heard you talking in such a manner?"

"John would agree that you're over stepping and should leave."

"Why don't we put that theory to the test?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap, having had enough of Mycroft for a lifetime.

"Let's just say that it's a matter of who wants you to be living here."

"John wants me living here."

"Does he?"

"Yes, he said so."

"When?"

"..."

"Go on, tell me, when did Dr. Watson say he wants you living here?"

"Shut up."

"It would be wise to think about moving to a facility until you're safe and sane."

"I'm fine."

"Are you? Could have fooled me."

"John wants me here."

"Stop lying to yourself, Sherlock."

"I'm not lying."

"How many times did John try to find you while you were living with Allen?"

"Why does this matter, just leave me alone."

"Answer me this then-" Mycroft is cut off by the sound of a door opening.

"Sherlock, are you here?" John calls out. "I'm back with Rosie."

Instantly, I open my bedroom door and see John standing outside of it.

"Are you alright?" He looks concerned.

"Yes." Stepping out the doorway, I turn back and glare at Mycroft.

He comes out behind me, shocking John.

"Mycroft, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just needed to speak with Sherlock." He smiles at John before turning back to speak with me. "I suggest you consider what I said, brother mine."

I don't say anything, I just glare coolly at him as he leaves the flat.

"What was that all about?" John still has Rosie in his arms.

"Nothing, just Mycroft being an arse."

"That he is." He agrees with a chuckle.

_Fuck you Mycroft; John wants me here._

Watching John interact with Rosie... I can't help but wonder...

_John wants me here, doesn't he?_

_Authors Note: _Yes, Mycroft is being awful.  
Is there a reason this is happening? Yes.  
Do you want to know? No, you really don't...


	36. Chapter 36

_Perhaps... it might not be as troublesome as it would seem in forethought._

_What if I hate it in hindsight?_

_What could go wrong? Worst case scenario, John will hate me more than he already does._

The wind is strong, it's sweeping my coat around me as I stand staring at the cold corpse before me. It takes me back to a simpler time, when it was just John and I against the world, now things are far to complicated. This man has fallen to his death from a building close to St. Bart's, and if I didn't already have plans to visit the rooftop later I would.

Am I going to jump? Absolutely not. I just need to think, and it's the only place where I'm not expected to act alright.

"We're not sure what happened... he had everything to live for." Detective (?) babels while I try to think. It's really annoying. I already determined what happened here, but I still have things I'm working out while I think about other things...

_Falling behind aren't we? You used to focus much better, pity you're lame and boring now._

_Shut up._

"If you would look at the everything you would understand and know what happened, not I would appreciate some quiet, thank you."

"I don't appreciate your tone." He fires with a deep growl in his voice. "We _invited_ you here because Lestrade_ thinks_ you're important and have _some brilliant brain_."

My eyes instantly lock on the ground, I find myself no longer interested in the case.

"From what I heard you went and threw yourself off a building just like he did."

"What's wrong over here?" Donovan walks up from behind me, taking a step between Detective... who is this man? we'll call him _not-Lestrade_, and myself.

"He's making half-cocked remarks, he's not worth our time." He rolls his eyes, still very bothered by my 'half-cocked' remark.

"Well you need to take a walk to blow some steam off." She crosses her arms, seemingly siding with me.

_She thinks you're to weak to handle criticism, and she's right, Sherlock._

_Get out of my head._

_I'm never leaving you, Sherlock.~_

"You're sticking up for him?" Detective _not_-Lestrade raises an eyebrow, also crossing his arms.

"No, I'm preserving the crime scene, no one should start a fight while we're still collecting evidence."

"Unbelievable." He huffs, "You really think this _cock_ can help us, don't you?"

"Maybe I do." Donovan doesn't back down.

"Donovan, Detective _not_-Lestrade is right." My eyes return to the ground. "I was making uncalled for remarks, and I apologize."

"No, I heard what you said." She turn to me, causing me to step back without thinking. "You were right."

"Don't side with me out of pity." I snarl. "I'm the same as I've always been."

"That's what worries me." Her patience seems to be wearing thin, she's tapping her foot slowly as she does when there are things not sitting right with her.

"Oh, and perhaps I'm supposed to think that a simple misunderstanding is not the cause for your changed behavior?"

"Maybe I chose to believe you for once."

"Or you chose to believe me out of guilt, or the need to relieve your conscience."

"Of what?"

"What really happened between you and Anderson?"

"Screw you." Her face lights up with fury, it would seem I hit a 'sore' spot.

"Perhaps I should mention how long you two were having an affair-"

"You freak." Her words barely leave her mouth before her eyes widen in shock. "Oh god."

"That's the Donovan I know." I sigh, not liking the look on her face now for some reason... _or is it that I don't like that I drove her to call me a freak again? Nothing has changed between us, I respect her for the work she does, and she distrusts me because I see things she can't. It's simple._

"Sherlock..." She hesitates, seeming to feel remorseful for some strange reason.

"What's going on over here?" Lestrade strides up, taking in the situation with an air of anxiety under the surface.

"This stupid cock is verbally harassing Donovan." Detective _not_-Lestrade scoffs, looking incredibly displeased with this whole deal.

"Hey," Lestrade snaps, "he is not a cock." His finger is pointed at me.

"Sure." Detective _not_-Lestrade leaves without another word, having had enough of my... _me_.

"Don't listen to him, Sher-"

"The victim didn't jump, he was pushed." I cut Lestrade off, not wanting to deal with anymore pity. "There are mirror bruises to his neck, probably strangled him long enough to knock him out not kill him, them they took him to the roof and pushed him off. There are also ligature marks on his wrists, he was being held captive, the tattoo on his neck is from-..." My mouth goes dry when I recognize a tattoo on the mans neck, or more specifically, where it originated.

**Serbia.**

_"Here, have some water." A man stood over me, a canteen in hand._

_I refused to speak to him, it was easier to endure the torture in silence than to let them hear me speak._

_"It's not poisoned." The man laughed quietly, sitting in a chair in the corner of my cell. "I'm Dmitri."_

_Still, I refused to utter a word._

_"No one can get who you are, though, they all think you're a spy of some sort, maybe a cop."_

**_What does he want?_**

_"I think you're something different." He placed the canteen on the chair as he stood, leaving it discarded and allowing it to pour out onto the ground before my eyes. That in of __itself was nearly the worst torture they could inflict upon me... but there was something new coming , something I had yet to endure... something that would have completely _ _broken me if not for Mycroft reaching me in time._

_"Why don't you tell me your name so I don't have to hurt you?"_

_Despite how tempting his offer was, I refused. If I gave in than everything I had done would have been destroyed. **This is for Lestrade, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson and... and for **_**_John._**

**_What if he hates me if- when, when I make it home to him?_**

_"You really don't need to go this route." Dmitri tuts, unhappy with my lack of compliance._

_In an instant the false kindness was torn back to reveal a harsher and much more brutal terror._

_"Fine." He moves to stand behind me. Before I can think there is a sharp pain on my back, causing me to grit my teeth. "Don't play nice."_

_Another blow lands, followed by another. "Name!"_

_This carries on for several minutes before the flogging stops, but the torture wasn't over... in fact, it was just about to begin._

_"This is going to hurt." The sound of a zipper makes my blood run cold._

**_Oh god._**

"Hey, are you alright?" Donovan's voice brings me back to the present.

"What- fine, yes I'm- I'm fine." Blinking rapidly, I try to push the thoughts away, but find that I'm entering the beginning stages of an 'anxiety attack' as Mycroft put it when we were children.

"You sure?" Lestrade doesn't believe me.

"This was a suicide, the bruising isn't significant enough for... he wasn't being held captive, this is strictly consensual-bruising."

"What-bruising?" Lestrade looks lost.

"He was tied, but it's not enough bruising for it to have been meant for harm."

"You mean he had kinks." Donovan states bluntly.

"... yes..." Awkwardness enters the air as we stare at each other. _She doesn't believe me, a__nd she shouldn't, t__his was intentional._

**_He was murdered._**

"So... suicide?" Lestrade clears his throat, ending the silence.

"Yes, now, I need to go." Without stopping to listen to whatever they're telling me, I leave.

_I need to talk to Mycroft._

_He has some explaining to do, this man was supposed to already be dead._


	37. Chapter 37

The ride to my brother's 'office' is short, shorter than I would have preferred it be.

What am I supposed to say? 'Why isn't he dead?' No, no, no... that won't work.

I pay the cabbie and exit without so much as a word of thanks.

_Pathetic, look at yourself Sherlock._

_Get out of my head._

Before I can battle my thoughts anymore, I become aware of a presence beside me.

"Mycroft." I scoff, annoyed that he isn't inside where he should be.

"We should talk, brother mine."

"I have nothing to say to you." My voice is a low growl despite my reasoning for being here.

"Really?" He's unconvinced, as I would expect. "Why do we constantly play this game, you know you will ever win at it." We turn to face one another.

"You've put on weight again."

_Really, Sherlock? Laammmeeee._

_I told you to get out!_

"You've lost weight again."

"You're avoiding Geoff."

"You're avoiding John."

"You should be in your office."

"You should be in your flat."

"You never leave, what did you need, lunch?"

_Again? You should get a loan to buy some better deductions, because this is pitiful._

_Just leave me alone._

"You left a crime scene before you were finished."

"What are you, my mother?"

"No, but I'm sure our mother wouldn't approve of your current activities."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means."

We stare at one another for several seconds, silently fighting a battle of the wills.

Despite my wish to win, I find myself looking away, effectively losing the match. "Gavin was going to propose to you." All I want is to get away from this now pointless conversation, it's nothing but a waste of time.

"Pity, I was going to propose to him."

My stomach twists at his words._ I've never advocated for or against their relationship, but I don't want to hear about it. There are enough problems in the world without adding their bothersome relationship to the mix. I should have seem the signs before it become this serious._

"Gregory called and said you left in a rush, that he was concerned about you." Mycroft clicks his umbrella lightly on the ground.

"He's your goldfish, not mine." I snap, my shoulders stiff and my jaw set. "Perhaps he's bored."

"You're changing the subject, Sherlock."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Don't make me bring John into this, Brother mine." His words are like venom to my already compromised mental state, and I blame that on my reaction.

"I don't make you do anything, who's the British Government?!" Anger is the only emotion that exists anymore it seems. Nothing is alright and to be honest I don't know if I want it to be alright. "What makes you think I would ever want to make you do anything? Well I don't. You're the one who sent me to Serbia; everything that happened there was your fault!"

His head tilts slightly, expression still as solid and cold as before. "You experienced a flashback."

"Shut up."

"Perhaps it's time for that test you've been putting off since your return."

"Shut up." My tone is more of desperation at this point than the anger I felt earlier. "Why wasn't he dead?"

"Who?"

"You promised that you killed him, that he was never coming back." Tears enter my eyes and I'm barely holding them back. Why do I still feel such fear towards a man who can no longer do harm to me?

"Ah, that man." Mycroft sighs. "We should discuss this inside."

"No."

"Don't make me call John, he would be disappointed to be forced to come here."

"I don't care."

"Dmitri Krishol is dead, Sherlock."

"I know, I just saw his body after someone tossed him off a building."

"Impossible." Mycroft shakes his head in disagreement. "I saw to his death personally."

"I just saw him, it was the same tattoo on his neck, it was him!"

"No, he's been dead for quite some time."

"You're lying, why are you covering up the truth?"

"There is nothing to cover, he has been dead for-"

"I'll find out myself."

"You should come inside, I think that you've become confused."

"I'm not confused, I saw him!"

"This is all a trick of your Post traumatic stress disorder."

"I don't have post traumatic stress disorder."

"You know you have it, Sherlock."

"I don't have it, are you going to tell me why he wasn't already dead or not?!"

"There's nothing to tell."

"Typical." Rolling my eyes I turn and begin walking away from Mycroft.

_I'll find out by myself._


	38. Chapter 38

My network will be the best place to start, I'm sure that they will be able to find out where he came from.

Next, I'll call Gr-

No, I can't call him, he's not on my side anymore, he sided with Mycroft. He doesn't understand, he just can't see what I do. They don't believe me, they've been lying to me.

They must have been lying to me, none of this is real. Everything is a lie.

Dmitri Krishol is dead, but he's not been dead as long as I was told me was. _Who else is still alive? WHO?_!

_Who else is on Mycroft's side? Molly and Mrs. Hudson? John?_

What if he's turned everyone against me like Moriarty turned everyone against me?

Where can I go? I have several empty flats around London for when I need to hide, but Mycroft knows where they are.

"What are you doing?" A familiar voice stops me in my tracks.

"What, no, no, you're dead." My breath hitches at the sight of Lul-Chan's face.

_"Where should I start?" I spoke to my fellow 'missionary' I wasn't one, he and his family were real. It was difficult enough to find them, it only further complicated_

_things when I discovered that they were from Asia. I was forced to learn another language, and quickly._

_"We'll go to Zambia, once we arrive, we'll see to the biggest needs."_

_"Alright." This mission wasn't going to go as planned, especially once I realized that Lul-Chan and his family were part of Moriarty's web._

"No, I'm very much alive, so are the others." He smiles, his head not smashed in as it was the last time I saw him.

"How are you still here?"

"How are you still here?" He takes a step closer. "Maybe you're the one who's dead."

"No, I would know if I were dead, you're dead."

"Am I?" He looks down at himself. "I don't feel dead, maybe if I'm really dead and don't feel dead you're dead and don't feel dead."

"No, this is impossible, you're dead." Backing away, I turn and run from him.

"Stop!" Lul-Sina is in front of me.

_"What's for dinner?" Lul-Chan spoke to his wife, Lul-Sina._

_"Chicken, now get out of here while I cook." She swatted him playfully._

"No, stop, leave me alone." My heart is beating faster and faster, it's as if I could have a heart attack at any second.

"You lied to us, you didn't save us." She's covered in blood, a deep knife wound still bleeding crimson as it was the day I left her dead in her village.

_"Mama!" Their youngest daughter screamed as the village was infiltrated. There was blood everywhere, the screams of the children echoed through the once serine night._

_The whole family was left for dead, I escaped. Their deaths haunt me to this day despite the fact they were part of Moriarty's web._

"Stay away from me." I back into another person.

"You promised I would be alright." Lilly cries out. "You swore it, you made a promise."

_"Sherlock, you can't leave me here!" Lilly cried as I left the room. She was only a child, but I was trying to protect her. How was I to know that by leaving that room to secure the house a hidden assassin would kill her and leave without another sound?_

"No, stop, leave me alone!" Running away from these figures who have come back to haunt me, I dash to my nearest flat and lock myself inside.

_No, no, no._

"Sherlock." Victor Trevor's voice whispers in my ear.

"No, leave me alone." It's as if I'm losing my mind.

"You didn't try to save me." He leaves.

"I'm sorry."

"Look at yourself, get up and pull yourself together, no one wants to have a fucking baby for the rest of their lives, you're a mess, a disgrace, I should leave you just so you know what it's like to take care of yourself, I do everything for you and you can't even cook dinner without supervision you're worse than a baby, you're a burden to everyone and you deserve to be alone!"

"Allen." I curl in on myself, bracing for the sure to come impact.

"You would have let them kill me, you would have let them kill me!" He spits. "Did you even look for me? Well I looked for you, I always look for you I'm not your dad so stop crying and be a man before I have to teach you how to be one!"

"I thought you were dead." My eyes are wide as I look up to Allen.

"You mean you wished." He scoffs. "Look at yourself, you can't even solve a crime without falling apart, you can't name the planets, you can't do anything right, I always have to do everything, and this is all your fault."

"How do I fix it?"

"You can't." He crouches to my level, his eyes locked on my bandaged arm. "What's this?"

"Nothing." My eyes watch his face for any signs on what he's thinking.

"You cock." He rips the bandage off, exposing several cuts. "You slit your wrists for attention didn't you?"

"What, no- no."

"You attention seeking whore, you can't even survive without getting attention from someone."

"I'm sorry." _No, that's not why I did it... no, no, no._

"No you're not."

"How do I fix this?"

"You don't, you can't because you're to stupid to fix it, you didn't deserve your violin back, you didn't deserve anything they've given you, I trusted you to follow the rules and you refused, everything I ever did for you you threw back in my face, I hope they send you to the same hell hole that your sister is in because then at least no one will have to deal with your fucking pathetic bitching."

"I'm sorry." My back is against the wall, my knees to my chest and my hands running through my hair as I try to get a hold of myself like Allen told me to. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"No you're not." He crouches to my level. "If you were sorry you wouldn't have done it again, and again, and again, you're not sorry for it, you're just sorry that you got caught."

"I can do better, don't leave me, please."

"You deserve to be alone."

"I know, I'm sorry, I promise I won't do it again, please, please, don't leave me alone."

No, I think you need to know what it's like to be alone for once, you've never had to work for anything, now you have to, you have to take care of yourself and do your own shit, so good luck surviving without me."

"No, Allen!" I try to catch him, but he's gone before I can see where he went.

"NO!" I scream. I've lost everything. Everything I once had is gone, my whole life is a lie, who else is lying to me?

_Liars._

_1\. Lestrade_

_2\. Mycroft._

_Unknown._

_1\. Mrs. Hudson._

_2\. Molly._

_3\. Eurus_

_Truth-speakers._

_1\. John._

_If parts of the web are still alive, what is going to happen to me? To John..._

_I have to find them and kill them before they kill anyone. Then Allen will be proud and come back. I have to make Allen proud._

Before I have time to make a very thought out plan, the door bursts open and I see Mycroft come in with Lestrade and several of Mycroft's armed security guards in tow.

"I think it's time we go have a test done, don't you agree?" Mycroft speaks.

"No."

"We are taking you for the PTSD screening."

"No, you cannot force me to go."

"You will go or you'll be sent to a facility until you are deemed safe to return to society."

"Oh, so you want to put me away like Eurus?!" I'm outraged.

"No, I want to avoid that." He narrows his gaze.

"I told you we should have gotten John." Lestrade huffs angrily at his partner.

"John's in on it too, I should have known."**_ JOHN IS A LAIR TOO._**

"Come along, we have a car waiting so we can take you to the hospital."

Two of Mycroft's men grab me and restrain me per Mycroft's orders.

"I'm not going." Struggling against the men holding me, I try to make Mycroft understand I don't need to go.

"You are going."

"No, you lied to me, parts of the web are still alive and not I have to go through this all over again."

"They're dead, and they're never coming back."

"Liar, I saw them with my own eyes."

Lestrade and Mycroft exchange a glance. "When?"

"When?" I scoff. "Let me go so I can do what I need to do."

"Brother Mine, you're suffering from hallucinations, what did you take?"

"I didn't take anything."

"Don't lie, what did you take?"

"Nothing!" _Why won't he believe me?_


End file.
